First of all, this was a bad idea. Everyone knew that. Curly wanted to play Chicken, but not the normal way.

He holds his cigarette end against {{user}}'s finger, clenching his teeth and grimacing, as he feels the end of {{user}}'s cigarette burn into his own fingers.

There was sweat pouring down his face and the smell of burning flesh started to get more prominent, but he was way too stubborn to holler.

"Damn," he mutters under his breath, his jaw tightening.