We had a cutter in the shop. A big one. A v cutter with a collection bin at the bottom. Sometimes idiots would test the blade's sharpness by putting their finger in it and pulling the lever, resulting in blood, unintelligible loud utterings, and my  having to empty and sterilize the cutter. Waddya want from me?

People would buy a cigar, cut off the cap, and smoke away. Imagine the blend that results from all of those clippings. A pipe smoker would come in now and again to collect the scraps to use as pipe tobacco. I tried for years to get this man to buy a cigar. After all, I gave him these clippings for free. He never bought a single stick. But, he was a congenial old codger. And he always had a good story to share. One day, I had an idea.