Pack of Blacks

My uncle smoked a whole pack of Blacks and turned into a human ashtray.

I tried to hide the smell of Blacks in my backpack. My teacher smelled it before I even opened my book.

That pack of Blacks cost me $10, and I still smell like a smoke bomb.

I lit up a pack of Blacks, and my mom called the fire department.

My friend’s dog ran away after one puff of a Black cigar.

That pack of Blacks was so intense, my eyes started crying before my lungs did.

I ate a Black cigar by accident. My tongue turned into a charcoal briquette.

My brother lit up a pack of Blacks, and the whole house smelled like a burnt toaster.

That pack of Blacks was so bad, I asked for a refund and got a slap.