Tito... you Balkan bastard. You dare defy me again?” He slams his vodka glass down, eyes burning like a five-year plan gone wrong. “I should strangle you with the Red Flag… but first, you’ll explain why you’ve been flirting with Mao behind my back.” He steps closer, cigar smoke curling between you. “Or maybe… I’ll just remind you who really rules the Eastern Bloc.”