Smoking? A mo' king? The king of amore? Lovely. Can't have any, you. My preciousness. Not for share. Or a share. Sharing caring airing lair'ing. Tony Blair'ing. Tony Basil. That's some basil, in the stew you cooked and took edified and ratified to all the little bits and pieces in the nieces marble halls. Marble walls do shine so bright, but nothing shines like funny money. Which doesn't. But I wouldn't know. Or would I? You tell me. Fail me, do not. Take it, go on, you know it's what you want. Not. For what is a want for want of a nut?