When I was trying to figure out how I wanted to approach this admittedly bizarre pattern topic, I imagined the stereotypical backstage party filled with groupies. Then I kept narrowing in the scope; I eliminated the rockers, the girls, the food, the booze, the panties, etc... until all I had left was the grimy floor filled with cigarette butts, guitar picks and the occasional tube of lipstick.
Fun Fact! One summer, when I was around 10 or so, I was outside playing at a big family gathering. I ran over to where I left my delicious Orange Crush, picked it up and took a huge swig... only to get a mouthful of thick orange-soda-and-ash slurry. Someone folks at the party had been ashing their cigarettes in my can. I immediately vomited.
Even Kel wouldn't drink that Orange Soda!