It’s the Adjective That Describes the Instrument With Which I’m Going to Kill This Girl Behind Us

Girl, talking loudly on cell: Oh my God! I can’t wait ’til I get home to smoke a blunt. No, seriously, I can’t wait!
Young child in front of her: Mommy, what’s a blunt?

–Arrival flight, LaGuardia Tarmac

Overheard by: No you didn’t!