About the book: year / I'm twenty. I'm handsome. Strong. I love cartoons. I love sweets and sex. Oh yes, I do smuggling. More precisely, I did until I got an olive in my skull. I was reborn in a new world. In the body of a guy with demonic tattoos. I’m sitting tied up under an oak tree. In the royal garden. It seems like in an alternative magical St. Petersburg. Horses with a coachman and a company of noisy aristocrats are flying in the sky. On the ground, next to me, there are two aborigines. One is eating a shish kebab, the other is deciding which garden tools to cut off my eggs with. Stop, me ?!Eggs?!Apparently I'm in trouble again.