Cupcakes

Everyday, Franklin would bring cupcakes.

Why? I wanted to ask. What are you trying to prove?

Franklin was, by all accounts, a nice guy. Besides bringing cupcakes, he was an efficient worker and always had a kind word to say.

He knew everyone's name and probably their spouses',  childrens' and pets' names too. He knew what bothered them and their favourite type of icing, and I was no exception.

So I didn't have a grudge against the guy, exactly. But his constant niceness unnerved me. How could anyone be so intoxicatingly perfect?

But it might've been jealousy. After all, he seemed to have everything. And what sane person didn't want the appreciation, respect even,of their co-workers, or the supervisor job, or the ability to make--and I admit it--fantastic cupcakes.

Regardless, I tried to steer clear of him. Rarely did I accept his cupcake for me (with peppermint icing), and less often did I respond to his compliments.

Then came the day when everyone seemed to be moving slow.

"Top o' the mornin'," slurred Bob to me.

I jumped back as he swayed and crashed into the desk, papers flying everywhere."Bob?" I asked tentatively. I crept away. Everyone else stomped around, eyes lolling, spilling coffee everywhere.

A tray with a single cupcake in it was shoved under my nose.

"Cupcake?" asked Franklin.

I pushed the tray away, shaking my head.

"Really, I must insist!" he said. I glanced at him sideways. His eyes were wide and a grin was plastered on his face. Around us, people were dropping like flies.

"Please, take one! I added a secret ingredient. The others seem to like it." his maniacal grin grew wider.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and pushed Franklin through the fifth floor window. Thousands of fragments of glass were embedded in his skin before he went plummeting to the sidewalk below.

I stood on the wall-to-wall carpeting, covered in Franklin's blood, staring at my dead co-workers. The cupcake tray lay dented at my feet, the lone cupcake splattered on the ground.

It was in that moment that I realized that the late Franklin, who by all accounts was a nice guy, would never be convicted of a crime.

I would pay the price.