[Daryl feels that; he isn't suffering from physical withdrawal... But the memory of a weekend of chainsmoking has led, predictably, to chainsmoking. Not great for his overall health, but what's he got to lose, really...? Nope, the trip up here hadn't been a picnic for him either.

Still, he does have the breath to spare to snort at America's response. Little jumpy, are we...? In any case, his voice is muffled but not completely incoherent through the mask.]

Got a real mess in here, bettin' the air's no good... Probably spread down the hall too but we gotta get it outta here before we start workin' on that. [he glances at a burnt-out pot sitting on a desk. It looks like it'd been on fire at one point: the wall behind it is covered in ash.] Ain't takin' no chances.

[Ironic considering the smoking... But that's neither here nor there.]

They got trash chutes around here somewhere, don't seem to go nowhere... That's lookin' like the best place to put it.

[Is that how you get rid of a meth lab? Who the fuck knows.]