On the way to the door, Richard pulls out his pack, flips it open and smacks the box against the top of his wrist. Out from the corner comes a staircased trio of cigarettes. He plucks the tallest one with his lips, puts the pack back into his chest pocket and opens the door.
The first thing Richard sees as he walks outside are the shady figures ganging up against the side of the truck. Furrowing his brow, he takes out his cigarette with his left hand and tucks it in between the helix of his ear and his head.
"Hey, you! Back off the truck!," he yells at the top of his lungs, not caring whether or not they knew Aesthian.