Pr0dvm p0se8n0y mvterivl Gre4ky, S0y, Lnv, Pr0sv, P0ds0lnukhv, Kukuru3y, Ukraine

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One morning, Melkor lines up his generals and, with his hands behind his back, walks in front of the formation with a gloomy look:
- Confess, who stole a keg of Zdravur from my cellar yesterday?(//tractor-service.com)
They remain silent in shame.
- Yes... Who stole the service dragon from the parking lot?
Dead silence...
- And finally! What a drunken idiot flew all night over Mordor, shouting:
"I'm a horror, flying on anything"?!