Alright... In that case, there is only one thing to test. The flavor. Let's see if I can work up something... A sample if you will.
Prologue
"The March Revolution will go down in the history books as a monument to our success and a shrine of the Rebel's failure!"
Leafsnail smiled and exhaled a plume of black smoke into the air. In one hand, he held large cigar. In the other, he held the newspaper commemorating his greatest triumph. Leafsnail grins, hardly controlling his joviality. "Front page gentlemen! 'Confused Rebel Scum Purged from Empire!'"
His cohorts joined him in a single mass of raucous laughter, hooting like barbarians. Tonight the spies celebrate. Zombie Urist breaks out his best wine, while Nerjin recounts the story of him shooting Dariush one more time. His arms fly around in wide frenzied circles in his state of inebriation. "And he went down like a rock! Just. Like. That." He folds his finger into a gun and fires off a few mock rounds. Nerjin promptly falls backwards in his chair, which sends him plummeting to the ground. Leafsnail continues to pound the table as the sound of laughter fills the smoky room.
Only Zombie Urist remains composed. His face is etched in lines of deep thought as he swirls the wine in his glass. Leafsnail, in a fit of disorderly conduct will have none of it. He stumbles over and slings his arm around his scum buddy, rubbing his hair in a disorderly fashion. "My dear friend, you are looking more dead than usual tonight! Come on and celebrate!"
"Not yet." Zombie Urist snatches the newspaper out of his hand and jabs it in Leafsnail's face. "We captured five of the rebels. Five."
"And?" Nerjin asks incuriously. He rises up from the floor, using the table as a grip.
"There were six. One escaped capture."
Nerjin slides back into his chair, giggling. "Who gives a flying shit? We won. The rebellion was crushed. Game over man. Game over." His chuckling dies off as the hero of the spies conveniently slips into an alcohol induced coma, leaving Zombie Urist and Leafsnail to discuss the matter with one another.
"That so."
"Yeah."
"Who is it?"
"You know who it is." Zombie Urist hisses. "Him. It's easy to put out the fires of resistance, but if we have failed to destroy the embers, we may have an ever larger fire on our hands."
"You mean... He's coming back?"
Zombie Urist nods and leans in close, grabs Leafsnail's collar and looks him straight in the eye. "Yes. The Revolution has only just begun.