Winston Smith grabbed his tray of drab flavorless roasted mushrooms, and tiny drop of meat flavored gelatin. He walked down to the mess hall and sat next to his friends Curly, the tanner, and Fil the mason.
"Meat rations been raised to 4 grams per week!" smiled Curly, as he gnawed on a tiny morsel of rat fat.
Fil looked at Winston. The ration had been 6 grams the month before, and 8 grams before that. Fil, with droll sarcasm, turned back to Curly and said, "Yeah...double plus good."
Winston stuck his fork into the portion of his meal that somewhat resembled meat. It wasn't REAL meat of course...just sun-baked lard from the fat pile. It always tasted like vomit to Winston.
Just then, the newly titled Baron von Montague interrupted their meal. "I am a servant of the Lord Duke and Soviet Supreme, His Highness Travolta Sabretwilights! Are you the dwarf Fil?" he asked with an authoritative voice.
A rush of adrenaline flowed through Fil's system. This was it. He was going to be sent to pull a lever. "Ummm....yes." he said at last.
"You are hereby confiscated as property of the ancient and powerful Stonecutter's Guild. Come with me," Montague ordered.
Fil's chest lightened. This was great news! "Oh thank you, my lord!" This meant more labor...but it also meant higher rations. Fil looked at his two miserable friends, who were withering away from their poverty. "Can my friends come, too?"
"Can you stack stones?" asked Baron von Montague. Winston and Curly nodded. "Good enough. Let's go."
With that, the three dwarves began new lives...