In which I crave coffee with a side of horseradish

The office in New York is filled with artistic types.  We have actors, artists, writers and dancers.  And the really great thing is that we all support each other by attending each others' shows and reading each others' plays and looking at each others' websites.  The other night, several of us went to see one of our former colleagues in her dance concert.  We weren't able to sit together, though, so I ended up sitting next to several older women with some serious New York accents who apparently had some rather unfortunate friends.  During intermission they were talking to each other, and I was eavesdropping, as usual.  Eavesdropping is actually one of my best skills.  That and reading upside down.  I still think I'd make one hell of a spy. But as I was listening to their conversation, I couldn't figure out what the odd clicking sound was that I kept hearing in between sentences. 

"What about Pete?"

*click* [What is that noise?]

"Pete?"

*click*  

"You remember Pete?" 

*click*  [What IS that?]

"The one who makes his own horseradish?"  [Who makes horseradish?  How do you even make horseradish?]

"Yes!  I think we still have some in our fridge."

*click*  [Could it be ill-fitting dentures?]

"What happened to him?" 

*click*

"I think he died." 

"Oh."  [Wait, from the horseradish?]

*click* *cough* *choke*

"Are you ok?"

"Oh, yes...oh.  *cough*  What a way to go!  On a Nip.  Oh."

*click*  [Oh, good heavens.  Is that it?  She's sucking on coffee flavored candy?]

"Do you want one?"

*click*

"What?"

*click*

"A nip?"  [Because her clicking and choking are such a ringing endorsement for Nips.]

*click*

"No, thanks.  Oh, Sue.  Do you remember her?"

*click* 

"She used to come all the time."

*click*

"I wonder what happened to her."

*click*

"I think she died."  [No doubt by choking on a Nip.]

*click*