I remember the first smoke I ever had. Me and my brother huddled in the garage puffing on one of my dad's Lucky Strikes. He must have smelled the smoke, because he came barging in looking to beat up on us. But my brother got between us. Said he stole them. Wasn't true. It was me. But that was my brother. Hero. He got two black eyes and a broken rib for that. And I got beat anyway.
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