be joined at the hip
if you can't bet them, join them
join forces
join the club
join up
The two translators, Fyodor and Anton, stared at each other over a copy of War and Peace.
In front of Fyodor was a piece of paper with the words 'Chapter One' written on it.
In front of Anton was a similar piece of paper with the legend 'Chapter I' inscribed across the top.
After a long silence, Fyodor crossed out the 'One' and wrote 'Chapter 1' instead.
Anton shrugged as if acknowledging a concession. ',' he said, rubbing out 'Chapter' and replacing it with 'Chp. I'.
Fyodor snorted and immediately crossed out the '1' on his page and wrote in its place, 'Chapter the First'.
The two translators had been forced to by the publisher that was employing them. Either both of them worked on the translation, or neither of them did.
Anton rubbed his eyes. 'I can't do this,' he declared mournfully.
',' said Fyodor. 'Did Van Gogh have to share a canvas with Monet?'
Anton slapped the table in agreement. 'And what of Mozart? Was he with Salieri? Of course not!'
Fyodor cocked his head on one side. 'And who exactly is Salieri in this relationship?'
Anton sighed. 'That's it. I've had enough. See the world, meet interesting people, work in nice conditions - my mother told me translating would be a wonderful job, but I hate it!' he announced.
'Me too!' burst out Fyodor, suddenly feeling jubilant. 'I want to do something less aggressive. Let's! What do you say?'
'I say, yes!' And so saying, the two translators marched out of the room in good spirits.
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