At that exact moment, Gogi the donkey decided he had had enough of family heirlooms. With a sudden shimmy, the straps snapped. The wardrobe teetered. "Bedina, hold it!" Bacho screamed.

The sun was barely kissing the peaks of the Caucasus when Don Bacho stood outside his stone hut, scratching his chin. He had a problem: a giant, ancient wooden wardrobe that had belonged to his grandmother. It was heavy, smelled of mothballs and history, and needed to go to the village at the bottom of the valley.

Bedina arrived, leaning lazily against his donkey, Gogi. "Bacho, that wardrobe is larger than my house. Why not just burn it and tell people it was stolen by a ghost?" "It’s an heirloom," Bacho insisted. "We carry it."

Halfway down, the path turned into a sharp, muddy ledge. Bacho, sweating and puffing, shouted back, "Bedina! Is it steady? Don't let it slip!"

Bedina, who had spotted a wild blackberry bush and was currently occupied with a handful of fruit, replied with his mouth full, "It’s fine, Bacho! I’ve got it!"

Bacho, realizing the wardrobe was now a projectile, dove into the mud. The wardrobe didn't just fall; it soared. It hit the rocks below with a sound like a thunderclap, exploding into a thousand splinters of oak and antique dust.

Bedina walked over, wiped purple juice from his lip, and pointed down at the river. "Look on the bright side, Bacho. You wanted it in the valley. It’s in the valley. And we didn’t even have to walk the rest of the way."

) literally means "to drop," "to leave behind," or "to throw down." In the context of a story about these two characters, it often implies a moment where someone is outsmarted, abandoned in a funny situation, or where a "heavy" truth is dropped.