murder cigarette

He went out for a smoke. Outside were three people. Two of them already smoking. One asked if he could bum a 

cigarette

. He shrugged and said why not and gave him one. And then he asked for a light. Jeesh, he thought. Enough to bum a cig but also to bum a light? Well maybe the chap didn't smoke at all and thus didn't carry around a lighter with him. It wasn't common for non smokers to carry a light. No reason to get fed up about it he thought as he lit the stranger's cigarette.

And then the cops swarmed the place. Freeze! they yelled at him. He stood there shocked, with the spotlight focused on him, and within a moment there was two fully armored men with assault rifles behind him. Put your hands above your head, asshole! one of them shouted.

What the hell's going on? he asked. But they grabbed his arms, cuffed his hands together and shoved him into the pavement.

You have the right to shout as loud as you fucking want. Anything you say will not be used in a court of law, for we're hauling you straight to prison.

Then he felt a spit on the back of his head. What did i do? he asked them once more. 

Murder. One of them said at him before spitting on him.

Murder? I've never killed anyone in my life!

The sound of boots walking slowly. All the men stood at attention. The boots stopped right in front of him. He saw the knees bend. Then in front of him was a stern looking man. 

Did you just give that man over there, he pointed, a cigarette?

Who?

There, he pointed again, but he couldn't see. because he was cuffed and facing the cement.

Yeah I gave someone a cig, so what's the deal?

Well that cigarette was laced. And now that man is dead.

Laced? I ain't laced shit!

Tell that to the judge, asshole, he said.

The judge asked why he had laced the cigarette. He said he didn't. He said he had bought it from the gas station before going to the bar and there had been no opportunity for him to lace it.

Ah, but you chose to buy the cigarette. And so even if the cigarette manufacturer or the gas station were the ones to lace it, you are still liable, sir.

So they threw the book at him. In prison he was cellmates with somebody who had committed murder. But actually killed someone, not accidentally by buying the wrong pack of cigarettes.

What are you in here for? he had asked

I ain't done shit.

Me either, the murderer said.

I'm innocent, he told his cellmate

Aren't we all? Aren't we all?