When I was little my Grandmother had a cigarette machine. It was a box painted to look like a book shelf. After pushing a button, music played ("Smoke Gets in My Eyes") and a cigarette came out of a drawer in the top of the box in a dogs mouth.
I used to play with it all of the time, passing cigarettes out to all of my relatives just to hear the music and see the puppy.
Just before my Grandmother died she gave it to me because she knew how much I loved it. That she remembered how much it meant to me, and that she wanted me to have it to remember her by, made it the best present I have ever received.