We call ourselves marginal artists, feminists who have failed and therefore can speak freely about things that interest “almost no one.” Within the great field of Ukrainian “street activism” our attention is grabbed by the Sisters: they insist on their right not to have any rights (except those reflecting the heteronormative duties). The Sisters are doomed to failure — the ambivalence and paradox of their political practice can only serve as a prototype for a postmodern story. The idea of intersecting these two margins — us and them — is irritating and exciting. To achieve it, we use one of the oldest transgressive techniques – disguise. We made a ten-minute film, in which we are trying to immerse ourselves in roles that are opposite to our ambitions, as if it wasn’t a short, locally shot video art piece, but a big Hollywood project with fights and chases. This game, which cost us almost nothing before, today frightens us with its potential to serve as an illustration for the great fascist narrative. The Other must be present in it, and this Other can only act in the role of the Enemy. And we suddenly realize that the Other is us. That the Enemy is us. Amazed, we freeze — we are lost for words.