Bob always liked to smoke. All his friends knew that they would, sooner or later, meet him with a cigarette between his fingers and a thoughtful look.
"You know those cigarettes suck, don't you?", you said, when you found Bob on the porch smoking. You wish he didn't smoke, because you knew how bad it was. "Smoking kills."
Bob took the cigarette to his lips again and then, with his eyes always mysterious, he simply shrugged.
"We are born to die anyway.", He said.
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