If this were anyone else I'd be concerned

'Well, what?' I said, smecking. 'Are you not satisfied with beating me near to death and having me spat upon and making me confess to crimes for hours on end and then shoving me among bezoomies and vonny perverts in that grahzny cell? Have you some new torture for me, you bratchny?'
It'll be your own torture,' he said, serious. 'I hope it tortures you to madness.'
And then, before he told me, I knew what it was. The old ptitsa who had all the kots and koshkas had passed on to a better world in one of the city hospitals. I'd cracked her a bit too hard, like.