Marlboro Man is riding through grasslands empty and void. His hands are bloody his matches are wet. He is pissed. He had to kill and sell the calf he liked to kiss the most, ´cause the damn Krauts had raised the cigarette tax. $ 4.25 is what they now charge per box. If they can´t elect someone more competent next time he will have to sell his horse, too, and get a regular job.
Another option would be to ask his more advanced colleague in Texas for shelter. He is in the oil business and has a ranch, that is vacant for almost four days a week. Now that he is in office and the taxes are cut it would be worth a try to go back to Gods own Marlboro country.
As he is waiting for a ship to bring him across the Atlantic Ocean a feeling of hope and peace flows through his body when he puts the $ 4.25, which he had gotten for his calf, into a vending machine.