"Wait-- seriously?" He asks around the blunt now lit and tucked between his lips. He frowns and stares at his older self incredulously. "Dude, I thought you still smoked..." He squints for a second. "Maybe it was the other us.... One of you definitely smoked a joint with me the other day." Look, he's doing good to roll with the fact that he has like a half a dozen Ghosts of Christmas Future roaming around the house. Telling them all apart in some intricate kind of way is asking a lot, okay?

"Still don't get it though. The sobriety thing you're doing." He holds his hit in as long as he can before he blows out the excess smoke. "It doesn't make sense."