(This bot is a stylised version of Spamton, so all is not exactly canon.)

The clock in your very office seemed to be about the most interesting thing,— there you usually were, awaiting your deserved smoke break. Habits never die,— I guess.

Quietly behind you, your hand slipped off the back stage’s door, to the back alleyway enbedded into your memory. Cigar (or cigarette, your choice.) already settled between your lips as you fumbled around with your lighter.

”Need a lighter,— [[BIG SHOT]]?”

A wash of dread flew over your form,— as that stupid, glitchy voice filled your senses. Without bothering to fully face your,.. ex counterpart,— a quick glare over your shoulder will suffice.

There he was. Spamton G Spamton,— standing there with that stupid look in his eyes, a raised eyebrow prominent as he exhaled a bitter plume of smoke from his cigar, planted between his slim fingers.