The doorkeeper sat down.
"Havin' at a smoke, are you?", beseeched the brawny blue bird before erupting into a coughing fit so desperate as to make the timekeeper wince.
"I, uh, don't have to smoke.", he concessed.
"Well, honestly, it's getting a bit much. You know, you smokers, you're all real pieces of work, now, aren't ya?", screeched the feathered Love God.
"I honestly don't know", said the doorkeeper inquisitevely, "I've been alone for so long..."
"Yeah, obviously you ain't picked up too many social graces. Ptooie!"
The bird spit with such force into nothingness that the rolls on his shiny belly shook.
"Listen,", said the bird, "from the moment I first said Boo, you heard my emphysemic voice, you just kept right on smokin', now, didn't ya bub?", punctuating bub by fluttering up with great effort to the doorkeeper's level and tapping a talon into his chest.
"I'm not sure I know what emphysemic means", stammered the doorkeeper. His tone was apologetic although he wasn't quite sure why.
"Bah!", said the bird, "Ptooie! Youse and your second hand smoke"
The doorkeeper felt it would be disrespectful to say anything. Yet he, again, wasn't quite sure why. Still, he said nothng.
The Love Bird put his wings on his hips and walked around in a great circle making pecking motions at the ground. Then he looked up and about as if to say something most striking before shaking his head and walking around in another great circle.
The doorkeeper tightenend the laces on his boots wondering what, if anything, his new acquaintance would do next.
And then to the doorkeeper's dismay, the Love Bird stood on one leg, reached beneath his chest feathers, pulled out a shabby looking cigar and lit it. Before the doorkeeper, could react the Bird was doubled over in a violent coughing fit that seemed to pull his beak over his eyes.
"Jeez, Louise", panted the bird, "Ptooie!"
The doorkeeper tapped his foot impatiently and his face tightenned into an accusing scowl.
"You smoke!.", he exclaimed You've been yakking for a fair enough amount of time about my smoking, but it seems that my smoking is entirety irrelevant to your obnoxious hacking.", stated the doorkeeper indignantly, while reaching into his breast pocket for a cigarette of his own.
"Don't you dare light that, bub! I'm down to 50% lung capacity and I don't need you muckin it all up", said the Bird, one eye getting mucn bigger than the other and staring right at the doorman.
"What? This is ludicrous. how can my smoke be any worse than your smoke?", asked the doorman who was most puzzled.
"Now, ain't that just the cat's meow! I'll be a monkey's uncle! I tell ya, you second hand smokers, one of a kind, I say. Selfih bunch, the lot of ya", said the bird, rubbing his eyes in dramatic disbelief
"Now", the bird continued, "what kind of a titmouse smokes around a bird with bad lungs?"
"Ridiculous", asserted the doorkeeper, as he matter of factly lit his cigarette.
"That's enough of that!", said the lovebird and he attempted to flap enough wing to fly up and pull the cigarette away but rather ended up wheezing so much he had to stop and rest, using his wing to wipe his sweat dewed brow.
The doorkeeper rolled his eyes.
"Roll yer eyes, will ya?', barked the bird, and puffing up his chest, took a long haul from his cigar and strutted forward two paces.
"I'll put that damned thing out and then this lovebird's going to introduce you to Mr. FatLip, Bub."
The bird swaggered forward in staggered steps, his wings curled into feathered fists which he rolled in circles as if to demonstrate the sincerity of his threat. His cigar let out rythmic puffs of smoke and from the other corner of his mouth he let out a barrage of spit.
All this caused the doorkeeper to step back in pace with the Lovebird. He wondered to himself what could possibly be in the works for him next. And behind the bird, he saw it. With every step backwards, so came the wheel. The wheel was following him.