So the British Medical Council have called for the elimination of 10-packs of cigarettes, in a bid to cut teen smoking.
Poverty packs, we used to call them when I was a youngster, although the name doesn't seem so appropriate now that they cost about three quid.
This comes just after the government announced its decision to put grisly pictures of blackened lungs on the front of packs.
To which I respond, why not go the whole hog? We're obviously not getting the message yet.
If you really want to reinforce the dangers of smoking, why not booby-trap every tenth pack with a mousetrap or a tarantula?
Perhaps every twentieth pack could be filled with pressurised sewage, and rigged to explode on opening.
But even this might not deter the stubborn smoker, who could use letter-openers and the like to prise open their sabotaged ciggies.
Why not attack them in their natural environment? Position undercover agents outside pubs and arm them with blowpipes disguised as cigarettes to shoot unwary smokers with angry wasps.
If that doesn't work, pay the local kids to dance in a circle around us, singing Dirty-smelly smokey poo while squirting us with water pistols full of piss.
On a serious note, however, I wouldn't be surprised by any of the above measures. I can't buy cigarettes without mouthy fuckwits helpfully chipping in with lifestyle advice. Co-workers taunt me with malicious glee when I have to go out to the shelter in the rain, pub patrons wave their hands theatrically in front of their faces and look at me like I've just shat in their pints.
Look - you've won. Can't you leave us with the slightest bit of dignity?