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Fwoosh.
A long tongue of flame burst forth from the brass-colored lighter. The flickering fire illuminated the wall's exquisitely explicit murals as well as the green fish-like maw behind the lighter.
The maw with sharp fangs inched forward to carefully bring the cigar in its teeth to the flame.
The tip of the cigar lit up, and thick white smoke spiraled upward, swaying with the wind until it collided with the massive, magnificent crystal chandelier overhead.
"I wonder what they put into these imported cigars. They sure hit harder than the ones we produce on Hope Island."
"Nah, they're no match. Don't the First Mate have the ability to modify plants? I don't see him doing anything to improve our tobacco. Growing tobacco is way more profitable than growing grain and fruit."
"Tsk. We print our own money. Since when are we lacking money on this island?"
As Dipp enjoyed the narcotic warmth across his mouth and mind, his three distinct egos chattered idly in his head.
A webbed hand reached out to pick up a corner of the blanket and gently...
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