Gray was bored.

Not omg-I'm-so-bored-Natsu-fight-me-right-now kind of bored, but more like I-haven't-been-on-a-job-in-a-week kind of bored. He wanted to do something.

His temporary solution?

Cigarettes. He knew the things would kill him some day, but there was something about the rush of nicotine, the cloud of smok-

SMACK.

Gray stared, dumbfounded, as the guild's smallest dragon slayer aggressively stomped the death stick into bits and blew the smoke cloud away with gale-force winds. He rapidly paled as the tiny bluenette turned on him a glare worthy of Erza.

Her chest began to swell, and he gathered his own magic, just in case she attacked him. However, he was bowled over by a force of a different kind, mainly sound.

Wendy was screaming.

"HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT THESE THINGS DO TO YOU?! ARE YOU A MORON?!"

Gray grew increasingly more uncomfortable as Wendy launched into a 20-minute lecture on the dangers of smoking, obviously learned from Porlyusica. The rest of the guild simply looked on in silence, amazed at the anger of their tiny sky sorceress.

Wendy took a pause for breath, but was swiftly silenced when Gajeel finally took pity on the poor man and grabbed her, carrying the irate girl away with a rumbled "I think he got the picture, pipsqueak."

Gray slid from his bar stool to the floor.

"...What the hell just happened?"