If Josef Stalin decided to torture you, and your luck was good, you ended up at the Lubyanka getting your nipples twisted off by an NKVD goon with a pair of needle nose pliers. If you were unlucky, Uncle Jo invited you to dinner. Stalin’s dinners were grotesque, punishing marathons, with the maximum comrade forcing his terrified guests to gorge themselves on his favourite dish, a gluggy casserole of slow-cooked sheep’s rectum, while necking twice their own bodyweight in fiery pepper vodka and Georgian wine.
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