What Happened in Seville

We offer below our rendering to English of a story written by one phystech long time ago. We do not claim authorship and will be glad to hear from the author, whose name we presently do not know. This is a parody.

Don Quixote and his faithful sword-bearer Sanchez trudged along the empty road slowly descending into a small valley. They were on a search for their old friend, who left them so unexpectedly in the morning. It was almost evening now. The still and dusty air was drying the bodies and tiring both travelers, while the hot sun of Seville was slowly rolling down the sky. The valley they entered looked empty and barren of water and any living creatures.

"I wonder," said exhausted Don Quixote to Sanchez, "Where is our Rossinant, where is my trusty steed?"

"I beg your forgiveness, Signor, I do not know, what he had in his brains, but these creatures have their own character... I could not even think that Rossinant would run away as I was pouring fresh water into his buckets," answered Sanchez. He sighed, and drooped his head even lower.

Suddenly, an approaching sound of clinking metal made them look up with hope at the nearest hill. The old man's face enlivened with sudden joy as this had to be the noise of armor strapped to the steed's shallow sides. Rossinant!" - Don Quixote cried with his hoarse voice. Alas, this was not his steed, but a gang of dirty bandits, covered in old rugs fastened with pieces of metal!

Armed with clubs, they were the terror of all local villages and Don Quixote's long time enemies. They were saying that he is outdated and too boring for modern days with his stupid preaching of eternal devotion to the ideas of Pride, Honor and Honesty. In addition, they used to say about his ideal woman Dulchinea, that she is way too far from the modern female ideal, which they pictured as a smart modern girl, who knows how to make a living without working hard and runs wild with other youth every evening. Don Quixote, who was much annoyed by the increasing propagation of these views, used to always make allowance for the age of his adversaries. It was unthinkable to him to lift his arms against such immature opponents.

But their way was not that of peace. Quickly they produced their heavy clubs and proceeded with beating up Sanchez and his aged Signor. "Oh, please, stop this and let us pass!" - cried Sanchez. "I beg you, please, heed to the voice of reason, let's discuss our differences peacefully!"- Don Quixote's weak voice was trying to overcome the rage of the band. "Shut up!" - the gang's boss replied. "We are here to eradicate you for the bright and beautiful future we envisage in our preaching is coming! You are obsolete! You will be eliminated!"

"Oh," - cried old man, "I never meant to be so war-like as you are! I treasured your youth! Please have a mercy!" But the bandits turned up their musical boxes and laughingly continued until poor Sanchez was covered in blood and his master was barely able to move.

Suddenly, more of metallic clinking was heard up the hill.. The boss of the gang looked up with a grin, "Betcha this is our guys coming to enjoy the show! Let these two old fools dry up a bit before we will work on them together"

As he was saying this, turning his head to the approaching source of noise, his wide grin disappeared. The last thing this scum saw in his life was the firing muzzle of the main gun of a heavy tank Rossinant.