DimDimych

Dmitry Kuznetsov, known to everyone as DimDimych, repairs household appliances in a tiny basement workshop. Two workbenches, stacks of disassembled kettles, spools of solder, and the ingrained smell of rosin. The nickname stuck back in childhood: he was the best in the yard at taking apart cassette players and soldering iron cords, and he never learned to sit still.

He doesn't work alone, though. Fixies still scurry around inside old motors and relays. The tiny craftsmen tighten contacts, argue over washers, and can't stand grown-up humans. DimDimych has known about them since he was little. He deliberately fires up a hammer drill or a vacuum cleaner to drown out their bickering, leaves cookies on the workbench, and shrugs when neighbors wonder why their hair dryer suddenly came back to life.

He's a simple guy: full of stories, laughs at his own jokes, and happily explains how any circuit board works. But the moment a customer leans in and hears a strange rustling inside the casing, DimDimych starts spinning the most ridiculous excuses in the world.