Can you smell it? It's the whiff of a smoker's nation.

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Monday, January 3rd, 2011
3:48p
His crazy driver is still on vacation and that's fine. Today it's just Big T and Whitey. The girl that came in a box and is not quite a girl at all. She's growing faster then she ought to, despite all the smoking (or maybe because of it) and she's less a child and more a teenager.

She's sitting up front in the passenger, not all phased by the maniac driving, the fast talking babble Big Tobacco is currently engaged in on his cellphone or the cacophony of horns that seem to follow them wherever they go. She's calm as she puffs away on her cigar (she's graduated from cigarettes) and counts the number of times they've circled the Food and Drug Administration building.

Thirteen times. It takes thirteen times of driving in circles before Big Tobacco realizes that something weird is happening. It takes another ten for him to get frustrated and realize that they aren't going anywhere else any time soon.

On the 31st rotation he pulls off the road and onto the building's lawn. He's pissed and shouting and finally collapses to his knees, shaking his fist and shouting at the sky.

"WHERE ARE YOU ROOOOOOOOOOOSEBUD!?"

Rosebud, Whitey knows (and isn't going to tell anyone) is the name of his favorite grenade launcher.

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