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It was a warm summer night last Wednesday when I read @El Presidente's confirmation of the 2017 Deletions by Habanos S.A. Naturally, I felt downcast after reading this news, like so many here on FoH, I do enjoy my standard ring gauge cigars, and I feel a certain resignation to the loss of sub-50 ring gauge cigars, especially in the last 10 years. That evening I settled to watch the 2017 Australian Open Tennis at night when I fell into a dream or vision. In my vision I was under the sea, walking along the sea floor, yet I could not remember why I was there, nor how I was there. In my mind I could hear the melody of "Octopus' Garden" by the Beatles and in front of me I could see a rock garden. From behind the rock garden swam a fish, yet it looked strange, since it had a pig snout for a nose. The fish swam towards me so I enquired, "are you a @PigFish?" "I am indeed mate, my friends call me Ray". I could sense an aura of profundity in the way the fish spoke, yet I did not think it strange that I was having a conversation with a fish. As I peered closer I could see that in its left fin was a Diplomaticos No.1, in its right fin was a Rafael Gonzalez Lonsdale and in its tail was a Partagas Seleccion Privada No.1. As I looked around again at my surroundings, the fish now had a fourth cigar, which it was smoking, a Partagas Coronas. I enquired, "do you have a Partagas Seleccion Privada in your tail?" The fish rebuked me sharply, "kindly do not speak such blasphemy in my presence!" Having immediately realised that I had offended the wise fish by referencing the 2014 Limited Edition cigar and not the original Dalia, the No.1, I responded, "Am I in cigar heaven?" and "Are these the end times for such cigars, for who has these Lonsdales and Coronas anymore?" and "Are you like a wise prophet who's going to tell me to take a promiscuous wife and then proceed to name my daughter, 'Not Loved' and my son, 'Not Mine'...because I quite like my wife and my son and daughter's current normal and simple names!" The fish drew on his cigar, yet, paradoxically, it was now smoking a Punch Super Selection No. 1. " I am not that type of visionary," the fish asserted. "What exactly is it you'd like to ask me...what is it that you want to know?" he queried. Although I was somewhat hesitant, I was wondering how the fish could smoke a perfectly humidified Habanos cigar under the sea, however, I took the chance to delve into the fish's insight so I poured out my heart. "Ray, I feel so sad that cigars under 50 ring gauge continue to get deleted by Habanos S.A, when will we see an end to this...like the Kinks and the Rolling Stones in the late 60's/early 70's, will cigars return to a golden age?" "Surely you ask an earnest question!" the fish proceeded, "and I will give it the answer it deserves". "Reflect your mind, to a time prior to the revolution in Cuba. How many marcas and vitolas were there? Were they not numerous? All vying for market share among the nations. Furthermore, have you forgotten that before Cohiba, it was the El Rey del Mundo and later the Romeo y Julieta marcas that were esteemed. Why are you down-hearted? Don't you realise that there will come a time when cigars that are above 50 ring gauge will become homogenous and sub 50 ring gauge cigars will comeback again, for these things are cyclical. So, take heart and enjoy your quality cigars for now. For the time being they will be gone, but others will come and take their place." I was greatly enthused to hear such wisdom, but I couldn't help but moan in reply, "Oh Ray, yet how will I enjoy beautiful Habanos cigars when I can't have the coffee and shortbread-flavoured H.Upmann Petit Corona, or the unique floral-marzipan Bolivar Tubos No.1, nor the smooth and subtle cedar and cream in my beloved Hoyo de Monterrey Le Hoyo du Prince? And I may not favour the Bolivar Coronas Gigantes because it an earthy cigar, likewise, I don't necessarily reach for the creamy coffee and chocolate Vegas Robaina Don Alejandro, but I fear I never will get the chance!" At the very instance I muttered these words I was transformed to another place, a place without colour, a monochrome-pasteled bathroom. I could hear the fabled strings of Bernard Herrmann's score to the movie, 'Psycho', but it was me in that shower, behind the curtain. Without anyone telling me, I had a dreadful sense that someone was on the other side of the curtain, wearing an old woman's wig and branding a sharp carving knife. Without further adieu, the curtain was drawn, and I froze in shock as each thrust of that glistening weapon pierced my torso, quickly it developed a deep-crimson red wash that I knew was part of my soul, my very blood. I fell to the bath floor and for no reason I could recall, I saw Chris Martin from Coldplay singing in front of me, "God Put a Smile Upon Your Face" from Coldplay's 2003 album, 'A Rush of Blood to the Head'. It was on my mind because my sister gave me the album last week and I was discussing it my son during a drive on the weekend. The video for the song was the same monochrome colour of the film Psycho, and in the video the actor, Paddy Considine slowly disappears. By now, I had a smile upon my face, but I could feel that I too was disappearing. As I turned my head to my attacker, I could see a man in a wig dressed as an old lady, but I knew that the old lady was both deranged and represented Habanos S.A. The room was turning black, and my last reflection as I lay there was how grateful I was that of the two people in that room, only one of us was a cold, heartless bastard.