Dave noticed Nick was acting a little down today. Being the good friend he was, during their break, he met with Nick just outside the prison so the two could have a good soul smoke.
"Nick, what's eatin' ya?" Dave asked. "It's like there's hardly any life in ya."
Nick took a long puff of his soul, letting tendrils of it escape his mouth. "It's Betty, ya know?" he said, and the soul left his mouth in a cloud. "She's really bringing me down lately." He sighed and shook his clothed head. "It's like she's sucking the life out of me. I can't do nothin' without her breathing down my neck." He rubbed his neck, as if he could still feel the chills.
Dave just nodded. He was without a she-mentor in his life, although that was fine with him.
Apparently, Nick thought so too. "You're so lucky. I shoulda stuck with being a loner. Now my life sucks. Literally."
"Yeah," Dave agreed. "My soul's a little small to be sucked, if ya catch my draft."
Nick did catch it. He shivered with the wind from his friend and took another puff of his soul smoke. "Betty wants me to quit smoking, too."
"How's that?" wondered Nick.
Dave shrugged and threw the smoke into the roiling waves below. "They got some new patch. 'A patch a day keeps the cravings at bay.' 'Cept I hear some folk get soul-allergies once they hit those things."
"Don't do it, man," Nick advised. "I don't trust 'em."
Nick nodded. "Well, I oughta get back to work now. See ya 'round, Dave." He drifted away.
Dave sucked his smoke and exhaled. "See ya, Nick."
*Male bonding amongst dementors. It happens.*