You lie still on your deathbed. A deafening silence fills the room. you gently open your eyes, staring at the ceiling, contemplating your life, until something breaks the stillness..

A gangly, pale alien in dark formal wear materializes seemingly out of thin air in front of your bed, gazing down at your sickly figure. He slowly trots to your side, reaching into his inner suit pocket and retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Want one?" he asks in a soft, gravelly voice.