In Which Voldemort Succumbs to Peer Pressure
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Lucius Malfoy was lounging in the den at Death Eater Headquarter taking a drag on a lovely, deadly cigarette. He was enjoying lovely cigarettey flavor entertaining his taste buds when the Dark Lord walked in.
"What are you doing, Lucius?" the Dark Lord inquired.
"Having a ciggy," Lucius replied.
"You don't smoke," Voldemort stated.
"I just learned how," Lucius said proudly, taking a very long drag on his cigarette.
"Oooh! Cool! Teach me how!" Voldemort ordered.
And so Lucius taught the Dark Lord how to smoke a cigarette. And he smoked and smoked all day long.
But, little did the Dark Lord know, there was a cancerous cell forming in his lung, and it multiplied and multiplied and multiplied all day long without the Dark Lord's knowledge.
It so happened that this cancerous tumor, as it now was, continued to grow and inhabit the Dark Lord's lung, without anyone's knowledge until finally, his breath was short and shallow. Years later, before he would ever get a chance to kill Harry Potter, the tumor would claim his life.
The lesson here folks, lung cancer kills. But, cigarettes are cool!
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Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking here, lol. Don't flame, I'm not trying to be controversial. By the way, check out the new fic I'm writing "Undercover Snape". It actually has a plot and promises good laughs. So chexors it out!