<strong>Maxym Goncharuk</strong><br/><br/>Maxym and his comrades accepted their complimentary champagne from the impish looking redhead and sat back, leering at the staff and gulping down the wine like lemonade after a well meant "<em>Na zdorovye</em>". As she moved on and served someone at the next table his drink in a way which would make anyone jealous, and the stunning brunette knelt at some adolescent's feet, Maxym impatiently beckoned to their blonde colleague.  She had the provocative, almost whorish look about her that Maxym found peculiar to British girls of a certain age range and disposition. They really, really liked men, to put it nicely.<br/><br/><strong>"Khello,</strong>" he greeted her with a rasping Slavic 'Khhhhh' by way of an H,<strong>"we would like a bucket of Cristal with which to enjoy ze show."</strong>He pulled a £50 note from his thick, crocodile leather wallet, folded it double and slipped it into the back of the waitress's panties.<strong>"For the pretty show."</strong>He winked, grinned obscenely and looked up at her expectantly, sitting back with a growing erection at the sights all around him.<br/>