My work-coach at the unemployment centre was Miss Summer. Ridiculous name if you ask me, because She was as cold as ice. She told me She had a job for me and handed me a piece of paper. I freaked when I saw the job-title. Come on, that was not a real job, was it? It was ridiculous! But Miss Summer told me I had no choice, it was either this or the gutter. Well, I didn’t see much difference between the gutter and the job She had in mind for me, but I gave in. So the next morning I went to this villa where Madame Marlboro and Princess Pall Mall ordered me to open my mouth. They both took a long, close look, as if they were hoping to find a hidden treasure in there. I’m not impressed, Madame Marlboro said, but it’ll have to do for now. They brought me to a table with a hole in the middle and ordered me to put my head in there. And there I was: a human ashtray. Eighteen hours a day, seven days a week eating buts & ashes. Well, you have to swallow it, as they say. At least the Ladies are smoking hot, that’s something I guess.