In the lush winter wheat country of what was to become the disjointed USSR, there grew a most evil being: his lust was so twisted it tore life’s breath from all creatures that happened to scurry across its path. This sociopath; evil left hand of Beelzebub—the Great Mistress Beelzebub as Alexander Mackovick and his followers had the blatant effrontery to call the Mistress of All Illusion, the Lady of Dung—began his murderous path in the bloody shadows of a confused national revolution; a revolution that was intended to start a new age; a new age that would change the face of the earth, and bring Utopia to the Workers of the world; the slaves of the world.
Handsome and young, Alexander Gregory Mackovick was a suffering child fertile for Beelzebub’s moldering Seeds of Evil. His giant father, Gregory Mackovick, an unfortunate aberration of humanity, fomented a Worker’s Revolution by spending his every minute of, every hour of, every day slitting Nationalist’s throats, and then spending all his nights making stilted speeches calling for the Tsar and the Tsar’s family's barbaric mutilation.
On one of the many chilly evening at the Finland Station in Petrograd, Gregory Mackovick stood half-listening to an uninspirational speech by Lenin. Lenin, the Marxist disciple was, straddled atop an armored car, nervously clutching roses. He spoke of the bloodletting that would follow if the Marxist Revolution was indeed the vehicle to propel the Workers into power. He called for all peasants to burn their food-stuffs rather than surrender them to the war effort. “I’ve called for all soldiers to mutiny. Force the military to mutiny! Don’t give food to that abject fool Kerensky.”
Gregory Mackovick listened intently. Someday soon he would have his own entourage and be given roses by the grateful masses. Lenin’s well-dressed entourage consisted of his sister, Maris, his wife, Krupshya, and his protégé, Joseph Stalin. A mutiny would be needed to destroy the war effort and the “bread winner” conscription. Screw the government! The Marxist Revolution was the only way for Alexander’s father to dodge conscription; the only way for him to stay alive long enough to slit his fat wife’s fat, ugly throat.