Vasilich, New Business Proposals

  I’ve been missing my acquaintance, Cactus Vasilich — I didn’t see him while I was on vacation. But recently I visited him again and found out what was new with him…

  Let me briefly recap his complicated, dramatic story. Vasilich is a cactus in the office of the top executive at a certain Moscow company. One fateful evening, the spirit of a modest but very diligent employee, Yevgeny Vasilyevich, inhabited him. Yevgeny resembled the boss in appearance. It happened when Yevgeny was waiting in the boss’s office to get approval on a document. While waiting impatiently, he drank a glass of chamomile tea from the company’s special cafeteria and, due to an unexpected allergic reaction, fell into a coma. When he woke up the next morning, he found himself on the boss’s desk — as a cactus…

  The boss’s fate was also far from being simple. He suffered either a heart attack or some kind of apocalyptic stroke. He hadn’t been seen at work for a long time. Rumour had it that he was recovering either at a government-run sanatorium, or in a private residence in Altai, or undergoing a rejuvenation course in a cryogenic chamber… Yet, surprisingly, all the company’s important documents kept being sent to him for review — and they always came back with his unmistakable, sweeping approval notes.

  For a while, the deputies considered bringing Yevgeny Vasilyevich out of his coma so that, thanks to his natural resemblance to the boss, he could stand in for the absent executive. But the doctors’ efforts yielded no results. Everything stayed as it was. And Vasilich, the cactus, by a twist of fate, practically ruled the boss’s office unchallenged. Only the deputies occasionally stepped in, even more rarely other staff members, to offer their sincere greetings. Most often, at least once a week after the weekend, the boss’s secretary would come in and pour a bottle of mineral water from the reception area into Vasilich’s pot.

  This frequent solitude inclined Vasilich toward profound philosophical reflections, rooted in fond memories of his interactions with the boss. Once, for instance, the boss, with a bitter, nervous laugh, quoted lines from Vladimir Voinovich’s novel "Moscow 2042": “The secondary product delivered - a good meal completed…” Then he pondered whether the country was heading in the right direction, worrying that it might fall into the hands of “swallowers” and “pluralists,” torn apart by their contradictions… So Vasilich himself stretched his spines towards the grey Moscow sky outside the window, and kept on thinking…

  But sometimes philosophical thoughts left him. Of course, Vasilich, with his considerable bureaucratic and managerial experience — which he had absorbed from the boss — grew bored without real, hands-on work. And then, one day, some interesting business proposals came his way.

  They arrived quite unexpectedly, brought by the boss’s secretary. Let’s call her, in the style of Voinovich’s aforementioned novel, Iskrina. The thing is, Iskrina’s husband — let’s name him Zvezdoniy — worked as a driver in the company garage. His shift was every other day. On his off days, to bolster the family’s finances in line with his wife’s growing needs, he moonlighted as a delivery man, bringing whatever anyone needed as quickly as possible.

  It has long been obvious to the naked eye that delivery couriers have become a highly visible and influential corporation in Moscow. Look how they swarm all over the city on their motorized bicycles, clogging roads, sidewalks, and underground passages, brazenly cutting off cars and scaring pedestrians with loud, sharp honks. And they make quite a bit of money, by the way — more than at many Moscow companies…

  Yet couriers often run into conflicts in their line of work. Sometimes they knock someone over who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, or simply hurl abuse. Then complaints follow. And these issues need to be sorted out. Moreover, quite a few of them have less-than-perfect standing with migration laws. So the couriers needed high-level protection—preferably from some reputable institution—so they could refer to it when dealing with the police or simply cussing out negligent pedestrians.

  Iskrina proposed that the courier corporation, via her husband Zvezdoniy, throw their weight behind Cactus Vasilich, pointing out his undeniable advantages. As already noted, Vasilich possessed vast managerial experience and enjoyed unquestioned authority. At the same time, he maintained a completely unofficial status, which meant he could always avoid suspicions of conflict of interest.

  One day, Iskrina came not only with a bottle of mineral water but also with a delicious pizza delivered by Zvezdoniy. She ate the pizza herself, brushing the crumbs straight into Vasilich’s pot. According to her plan, Vasilich’s influence was to extend far beyond the company’s walls — wherever couriers roamed.

  Vasilich approved the plan. He was glad for the chance to do something useful for respected people…

  P.S. If these stories seem a bit delirious to you, rest assured. Believe me, our real life—certain aspects of it — contains just as much delirium…

October 28, 2025