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Back in the nineties, there was a big controversy over advertising cigarettes. Apparently, certain tactics were dubbed as “effective.” Almost as if cigarette companies wanted consumers to buy and use their products. The most grievous of these tactics included casting the product in a positive light, showing people enjoying the product, associating it with fun times. But young, impressionable children would see these advertisements and be equally influenced, almost as if fun was a universal concept. So, Granddaddy Government stepped in and put a big fat ban on a large number of advertising methods.

If that wasn’t enough, focus groups went out and tried to change major perception of cancer sticks. No longer could anybody smoke on TV unless they were learning a major lesson on why it’s bad. Pretty soon, movies fell under similar scrutiny. Disclaimers had to be added during the credits scroll, indicating all tobacco consumption was staged, and not endorsed. Puffing a cigarillo is now as equally inglorious as kicking a dog.

Nowadays, smokers have become a persecuted minority. Smoking has become a reviled hobby, the mere mention of which garners nothing but scorn. In certain public areas, smoking is only allowed twenty-five feet away from entrances to buildings. You can’t smoke in public areas, it’s all but gone from restaurants, and is fast disappearing from bars. To quote Eddie Izzard, “no smoking in bars now, and soon, no drinking and no talking!”

I bring all this up because of this week’s episode of How I Met Your Mother. Robin, the only cast member who has been implied to be a regular smoker, is forced to deal with the stress of her job and obnoxious new co-worker, Don. But more about him later. Because of these circumstances, Robin’s occasional nicotine indulgence has blossomed into a full-fledged addiction, resulting in frequent trips to her apartment’s rooftop to enjoy the smoky pasttime.

Marshall, whether fueled entirely by his own stress or lingering second-hand vapors, also picks up the habit. It is revealed that he also smoked before, but only occasionally, usually while drinking. Regardless, Marshall’s new boss is at least partially to blame. The returning Arthur Hobbes, a sadistic corporate suit upon whom Marshall erupted in a fit of rage in Season 3, is played effectively by Bob Odenkirk. Driven absolutely batty by the prospect of comeuppance, Marshall takes to the rooftop with Robin, promising it to be a one-time deal, claiming, “this will be the last cigarette ever.”

Marshall’s cold turkey endeavor seems genuine as he eschews the tobacco-generated clouds for fresh air, only to discover his boss enjoying the habit himself. Apparently, Arthur is told off by lots of people, and doesn’t even remember Marshall’s name. He also is incapable of learning it, frequently getting it wrong throughout the episode. The only thing Marshall can use to his advantage is also the thing he wants least: Arthur really wishes he had a smoking buddy. Wacky sitcom scenario extended. Wacky sitcom scenario accepted.

Returning home, Lily immediately smells the cigarette residue on her husbands clothes. Angry Marshall has started smoking again, Lily does the only sensible thing; starts smoking herself. Previously, Lily was seen smoking only once, on her wedding day. Understandable, as the day was under the jurisdiction of Murphy’s Law. The simple throwaway joke resurfaces here. Claiming they are together for the good and the bad, the pair begin their vacation in Marlboro Country.

Eventually, Ted and Barney adopt the smoking habit as well, not wanting to be ostracized from their friends, displaying one of the least subtle examples of peer pressure in televised media. The quintet seem fine with their decisions at first, but soon begin their steady downgrade in health, which according to television’s Aesop rules, must happen overnight. Ted’s lung capacity drops so much, he can’t climb the stairs to his apartment. Lily’s voice turns into Harvey Fierstein’s. Barney singes one of his ties. And Arthur has a major embolism during one of his smoke breaks. Everyone decides to quit, even Robin, despite still being plagued by work quarrels.

As a seasoned veteran of 39 different local morning talk shows, Don the Anchorman spreads a laid-back philosophy to the crew of Robin’s early, early, early morning talk show. Claiming no one ever watches this type of programming, he proceeds to flub lines intentionally, ignore boring stories, and sit pants-less behind the news desk. His demeanor catches on; Robin soon finds herself being the only person on the crew, sadly, still wearing pants.

Pulling one final Hail Mary to prove her career is not a total waste, Robin invites New York’s Mayor Bloomberg onto the show. When he initially accepts, Robin is ecstatic. When he cancels at the last minute, she struggles to remain composed and dedicated. Bewildered by his partner’s tenacity, Don searches for a way to show Robin that her efforts are in vain. Recognizing the signs of nicotine withdrawal, Don goads Robin into lighting up on air, claiming no possible impression could be made on their non-audience. As Robin reaches for her lighter, she is interrupted by a phone call from her friends, claiming to be the very impressionable audience Robin has been desperately wanting. She puts the cigarettes away, thanking her friends for their conviction and strong wills.

Returning home, Robin finds her friends on the buildings roof, all smoking, all badly trying to hide it. Realizing the patheticness of their situation, the five decide to finish their respective packs and actually make an effort to quit for good. Future Narrator Ted reveals they did stop for the most part. No one fully succumbed to smoking again, but all five kept slipping back on occasion for the rare indulgence. Slipping back to America’s own natural blend of cool, rich and mild flavors.

DISCLAIMER: The preceding recap of How I Met Your Mother contained satirical use of tobacco product endorsement. All endorsement of tobacco has been staged, and no actual product endorsement is intended.

Previously seen on Atomic Popcorn