A Hero of Our Times Page #3

- I'm listening

- There's dust, take the duster.

- The little rag?

The coffin's in Brennero?

Yes? It already has been cleared.

What a relief.

Yes, free port, I understand.

I don't want anything to happen

like the last time.

It had already arrived in Brennero

and it was sent back to Bucarest.

But listen, dear Sir, the zinc case

wasn't in the estimate, if I'm not wrong.

- O, my!

- Yes, but, still, 10,000 more...

- What thieves!

- Patience.

- Write!

- I write.

Yes,

the body will arrive...

- The body...

- On the 17th,

with the 6:
25 express,

platform 8.

Very well, thank you.

- Madame De Ritis?

- Yes, Sir.

Did a warehouse-keeper ask you to sign

a protest against microphones?

- No, Sir.

- Fine.

Anyway, try finding out who has

signed it, then we'll see about it.

Everybody has,

with my exception.

- If you want, I can name the names,

Lucidi, Balestrazzi... - Enough!

Can I go, Sir?

Give me the scissors.

I had just got on the tram,

and what d'you think he does?

- What?

- He puts his hand here!

- Do you get me, this geezer!

- And you?

- You know, he must have been at

least 40! - What nerve!

- And this must be the '56 model?

- Yes, Sir, lobbia style,

for the next year.

That's not it, it seems like a model

from fifty years ago.

Our opinion is, Sir,

that fashion goes and comes around.

We can't trust our opinions.

How many have you made?

This is the first one,

Sir.

Before mass-producing it, we should

find out how the public reacts to it.

We could repeat the experiment with the

floppy Tyrolian, d'you remember, Sir?

- Of course I do, what measure is it?

- 60, Sir.

- Human resources department?

- Yes.

Check if any of our employees

wears a 60 hat size and let me know.

Fine.

Close it! Dottore!

- I knew you'd be here. - I came here

for something urgent, it's not mine,

there were 11 smoking,

Balestrazzi gave it to me.

Lower your head!

- Like for confessing a sin.

- Like for confessing nothing.

- Lower your head.

- Lower?

- Well,now...

- Half a centimeter more.

What do you mean, more?

- Orders from above.

- O God!

- Pull yourself together.

- Pull...

Pull myself together.

- O my God, what is it all about?

- Did they take your measurements also?

- The head? You also?

- Yes, you, me, Balestrazzi.

- Why?

- Boh!

What d'you mean boh,

they're measuring our heads!

What am I, I'm an employee,

I'm no slave!

I have the right to know why they're

measuring my head!

- Why is more than 60 bad? - Il Duce

had 59 and he was the man that he was.

Don't mention Il Ventennio,

elections are coming!

But had he won the war...

He goes on, and on...

I'm sorry, Sir, it's forbidden

posting there.

Now I'm posting it, and if someone

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