Moishe Goldblatt was traveling on a boat across the ocean. Unfortunately, a sudden and fearsome storm struck, capsizing the boat. Moishe was able to cling to a dislodged door, and eventually found his way to a desert island as the sole survivor. He lived there for what seemed like ages, learning how to survive and building a life for himself from wreckage from the boat and the island's resources.
One day, he saw a boat in the distance at last. He took out the flaregun he salvaged and carefully saved for this day and got the boat's attention. In no time, a small boat was dispatched to investigate, helmed by the captain himself. Moishe was overjoyed and wept as the captain approached him. He explained his situation and the captain was all too happy to give him passage.
"Such a sad tale, my dear man," he said, "but it seems to me like you have managed to make a good setup here on this island."
"Oh, where are my manners? Captain, please have a tour," Moishe said, leading the captain to a series of huts he constructed.
The first hut contained a bed made of rags and palm fronds. "This is where I slept - not comfortable but it did the job, " Moishe explained.
The second hut contained a respectable collection of waterlogged books. "This is my library, where I study the scripture- thanks be to God, my books washed up on the island one day."
The third hut was clearly a kitchen. Before Moishe could explain, the captain pointed at the two remaining huts. "And what, Moishe, are those?"
"Those are the synagogues. That is the one I go daily, to say my prayers and worship."
"And the other synagogue?"
"The other one I wouldn't be caught dead in!"
"...everyone finally shut up, and the audience could enjoy the beginning of the Anatevka Pogram in peace."