It was the dead of night. Vasily Tovarisch, leader of the Revolutionary Forces, was on the run. He noticed that he was being pursued and immediately headed for the home of his trusted companion, Boris Kaputnik.
Boris was a very large, imposing man. Back in his home city of Vodkagrad, he was known as a strongman who could carry half a dozen children to the re-education camps at once. The Vodkagrad authorities ejected both Boris and Vasily as soon as these camps were discovered. Perhaps it would have been wise to wait until after the Revolution was completed to start acting like they ran the place?
Boris answered the door. He was surprised to see Vasily at this time. Furthermore, he looked panicked. "Is something the matter, Comrade?" Boris asked his long time friend.
"Da," Vasily answered. He hung his wool coat and tophat on the coat rack as he entered. "I am being pursued."
Boris nodded. This was not unusual. The capitalists and imperialists of the world did not look kindly upon revolutionaries who would challenge the status quo. These were organizations that upheld ideologies they used to justify controlling the world. Vasily made sure Boris knew this. That's why he believed in the cause. One day, they would put an end to the imperialists who forced their way of life on others by pushing their own ideology on everyone instead - by any means necessary, of course. You can't afford to tolerate dissent or let people think for themselves when you're fighting oppression.
"You have many enemies, Comrade," Boris spoke. "Who do you think it was? The fascists?"
Vasily shook his head. "Nyet, Comrade. This is the Age of Sail. Fascism hasn't been invented yet."
Boris nodded. "Capitalists, then?"
Vasily shook his head again. "Nyet. The Capitalists always hire the best mercenaries. These men tailing me were wearing shabby clothes and smelt of liquor, sea spray, and filth."
Boris thought for a moment. "Was it one of the Imperial powers, then? Perhaps they recruited an oppressed people to do their dirty work with promises of a great reward?"
Vasily shook his head once again. "We're on a tiny island in the tropics, Comrade. As far as the Imperialists are concerned, we're in exile."
Boris was bewildered at this point. Who could it be, then? Fascists, Capitalists, and Imperialists were the three main groups with a reason to be opposed to the Revolution, since it threatens their position in the world. Who's left? What's their motivation? How did they manage to hide themselves so well? Is this some kind of shadowy super-organization? Does the so-called Shadow Nobility exist after all? How could they possibly fight such a thing?
Just then, Boris's front door was kicked open. A gaggle of scrawny, filthy scoundrels rushed in. Leading them was an African warrior, recruited by the pirate crew who rescued him from the sugar plantation - Deckhand Ephraim of the Tater Pirates. With a chalky white skull painted on his face and a spear in his hand, he intimidated the two revolutionaries with a war dance from his homeland as the other pirates laughed and jeered. Coming up behind them was the large and imposing figure of the big fat guy who led the crew - Captain Tater.
"Ahoy!" the Captain bellowed as he strode into the home. "Do you know why I'm here?"
Vasily was dumbstruck. "Pirates?! Why are pirates opposing the revolution?"
"The what?" Captain Tater sneered. "I don't care about your little LARP."
"Then what are you here for?" Vasily asked, trembling, as he attempted to hide behind Boris.
An evil grin crept across Captain Tater's face as he leveled his blunderbuss at the fearful pair.
"Give me your hat."