The Smoking Pun

“You’re... smoking.”

“No I’m not, I gave it up years ago...”

“No, you’re... smoking...”

She pointed. He turned and looked behind him... smoke was billowing. 

“Fuck!” He started batting ineffectually at his rear end. 

“Turn around.” 

He turned, dancing a little. She reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lit smoke bomb, attached to a battery and some sort of circuitry. She flipped it to the ground.

“Oh, shit.” he looked down at the little device. “It wasn’t even hot, I didn’t feel it at all.”

“Well,” she said, “It looks like someone has friends with an odd sense of humor.”

“Yeah.” He looked up at her and grinned. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem.” She grinned. Their eyes met.

The elevator dinged, and the door opened.

“Well,” she said, “That’s my floor...”

“Wait,” he said, “I didn’t- Can I get your phone number?”

She paused in the elevator door, looking down at the smoke bomb and back up at him. “Much as I like a guy with a smoking ass,” she said, “I need to get to work.”

She stepped out of the doorway. An older woman got on the elevator; the door closed.

The older woman looked down at the still-smoking bomb and up at him.

“You can’t smoke in here,” she said.