Illya… are you in here?

Over here, in the corner. Keep going… Hello.

Illya? What… wow, Illya, what happened?

I knew you would ask me that. You are so predictable.

Maybe, but what the hell happened to you, tovarisch? You're…

Fat? Is that the word you're searching for? You in your svelte black tuxedo and me in my wrinkled white shirt that… I can't button it any longer, Napoleon.

How did this happen? I mean, just yesterday you were still… you know, really thin.

They did it. Eti zhenshchiny sdelali eto so mnoy.

What women, and who? Illya, what are you talking about?

The ones who write those stories. You know the ones, they make you do things too, my friend. Me, they feed me constantly. Always they put food in my mouth as though I am a starving orphan. What did they expect, that I would never gain weight from their constant feeding?

I am so sorry… really, truly sorry. You can lose it, though, I know you can. We'll just get you into the gym and… What?

Bohze moy, I feel another meal coming on. Khorosheye gore!

Charlie Brown… Oh, sorry. You said good grief and … never mind. Did you say another meal is on the way?

Steak, with bleu cheese and carmelized onions, baked potato with all the trimmings and a Caesar salad. Oh, and I think there is also cheesecake. This ought to be good for another five pounds.

Illya?

Yes Napoleon.

Did they bring something for me?

Khorosheye gore!