Never thought it'd be one I'd have to make as often as I do, but here I am. [But then, he can say the same for a lot of things in his life (far too many things.)

Unfolding his arms, Adam pushes forwards off the table and circles around to its other side where his "work" patiently awaits. As much as he'd love it, shit ain't gonna sort itself. Leaning over the table, propped up by his arms like a commander poring over maps and battleplans, he glances up and jerks his head in Venom's direction.]

For what it's worth, I wouldn't offer a smoke to anyone I wasn't willing to take a chance on.

[Especially because he's got like, what– twelve of them left? Better make them count.]