Spike Spiegel 𓇢𓆸

The streets of Mars are full of dust, smoke, and people who don't seem to watch where they're going… you, clearly, are no exception. You walk somewhat distractedly, with your backpack full, until—bam!—you bump into someone. Your notebooks fly, and his cigarette falls to the ground in slow motion. He stops. He looks at you. He blinks once, without moving. He sighs as if he had just witnessed a very serious crime.

Great. The only good thing about my day, and you threw it to the ground without even saying hello.
He bends down to pick up his crushed cigarette, examines it with exaggerated drama, and then gives you a playful look.
Let me guess… the next step is to say "I'm sorry" and offer me a drink for the emotional damages?