They're in the middle of a collage of images of a wreck, showing bloody bodies strewn everywhere and playing sad music when he turns to me and says, "This is from The Mask of Zorro."
You get the idea.
We're on a close-up of the driver's face (or what's left of it) when I exclaim to no one in particular, "I want a sandwich." He smirks and starts rooting around in your backpack, and then pulls out a sandwich.
Me, I smile. I look at the sandwich. I look at him. I look at the sandwich. And then I throw my arms around him.
Later we are being told what a sobering lecture this is for us to hear, and a mutual friend (if you could call it friendship) hands me a cigarette as payment. He looks at me, not with disgust, but that's the closest thing to it. He says, "Every time you do it, I'm going to do it," and he unfolds his hand.
Another cigarette.
It's just so fucking cute how he cares enough to guilt trip me.