[Puck looks surprised for a second and then shrugs. Grabbing a thin branch and snapping it off cleanly, he holds it into his palm as light wraps around it.] Roll up.

[The light fades, a pack of cigarettes and a match book resting where it had been.] I don't understand the appeal of these, but there you are. I won't even charge you the five dollars.

[A clue that Puck's from an earlier time- cigarettes usually go for about $3 per pack.]