“You expect me to sell you a horse?” The horse trader sneers at Maksim’s ragged clothing. “What are you going to pay me with?”

“Trade me the horse,” says Maksim cannily, “and I’ll do twelve backflips.”

The trader guffaws. “What a ridiculous idea! As if you can even do twelve–”

“It’s a deal,” says Maksim, and totally does twelve backflips. Then he turns around and does twelve more backflips, to get back to where he started.

“Damn!” swears the trader. “My finest horse!” He gnaws his hat.

“Good doing business with you,” grins Maksim, then backflips onto the horse, naturally.