A loud hacking cough could be heard along the corridors as Roger Stevens, sealed demon and hypochondriac extraordinaire, stumbled along through the haze of smoke, apparently attempting to throw up a cat.
The source of his troubles could be seen a few metres away, obscured by the smog, but still recognisable.
"Montague!" Roger screeched with all the shrill irritation of a fishwife, "for God's sakes, do you have to do that all the time?"
"Do what, darling?" Montague asked, pulling a long drag from her ever-present cigarette.
"That! Right there! That horrendously filthy habit. I could get lung cancer off you, I'll have you know! You're riski
I do draw things you know. I really do. I have about fifty million cartoon strips that I want to put up here just for the lulz. Sadly, (and I have said this so many times before) I lack a scanner.
Emma, hurry up *prods*.