The other day I spotted a young man — he couldn’t have been more than twelve — sitting at a bus stop messing around with one of those black liquorice pipes. You know, the kind with a few red sprinkles on the tip to simulate a tobacco flame. Naturally, I crossed five lanes of rush-hour traffic to slap the candy widowmaker out of his mouth.

He tried to pick up the cursed confection, so I had no choice but to stomp on it with my wingtips while explaining that it’s only a matter of time till he switches from a boy’s candy pipe to the kind of ivory-spouted Cabriolet that makes the ladies go wild. And once you feel that long drag of Turkish No. 1 Select flowing between your whiskers, it’s a one-way trip straight from the smoking parlor to the everlasting tomb.

-rep tunneler.

Chukla Chezzerz OP

ew this dude going sicko mode

definately a weeb

help