The Demon Tobacco?

When I quit smoking tobacco, having been long addicted, I was bemused to discover that a part of my brain-centered self had been sequestered during the period of my addiction, and turned into a sort of sub-self, with the defining taking-care-of-Anatole duty and purpose of making sure that I had a sufficiency of nicotine in my blood, for the immediate and the extended future. I was startled to discover, that this happenstantial sub-set of my own persona had its own personality, and that this personality was feminine. Startled and horrified actually. I called her "the Scheduler," and I allowed her to talk, like Axis Sally or Tokyo Rose, so that I could gauge the depth of demonic perversity.

But it occurs to me, that the shape-shifting toxin of tobacco that, along with sugar and rum (and, maybe, tea, coffee and chocolate), has obsessed the world for the past 500 years is,  after all, more formidable, more disgusting, and more terrifying, than I, as a private person, had thought.