You're no concern of mine. I'll light and enjoy my cigarette with no care to you. Ashing in your direction, and my dirty shoe hanging in your face. You belong at my feet, on the ground. So pathetic to watch you I don't even want to. I own you. You are mine. You're not even good enough to taste my ashes or be my ashtray. I'll leave you here chained to the table and you'll clean up the concrete of my ashes. Enjoy your stay.