An Almost Unsuccessful Attempt

An Almost Unsuccessful Attempt

I placed the final plate on my counter. There were only a few minutes left until guests would begin arriving. My heart was pounding. I had never hosted a party before, and I certainly never had for the motivations that currently possessed me. In fact, I’m relatively certain that next to nobody has. On the counter before me, dozens of small, plastic plates were sprawled. Each bearing five of my famous butterscotch cookies.

One plate had been separated from the rest. There wasn’t anything different about them, at least as far as anyone could see. But they were definitely special. Those cookies were particularly for Them.

The doorbell rang. My head snapped up to face the door. My heart was beating in my ears. It certainly couldn’t be Them, could it?

I opened the door, and a wave of relief washed over me. False alarm. This person was laden down with bags and bags, filled, uncoincidentally, with cookies. They were of the sugar variety, with holiday sprinkles on top. I helped them arrange them on a portion of the table. The cookies were in cute little bags tied with red ribbon.

Before long, quite a few people had showed up, and everyone was talking, drinking, and sampling each other’s home-baked cookies. Then They were here. With a knock on the door and a polite greeting from the guest who volunteered to open it, the time had come for my plan to go into action. 

I rushed forward to say hi. All while attempting to keep my voice from shaking with nerves and anticipation. “Glad you could make it!” I said, “Would you like some help with those?” I gestured to the large box of cookies in Their hands. They accepted and I carried it back to my kitchen counter.

“Oh, here are the ones I made for you!” I handed Them the plate of cookies that had been specifically set aside.

“Thank you!” They replied emphatically, “Perhaps I should try one now, they look delicious!”

They were just about to eat one when somebody pushed through to interrupt, which proved rather inconvenient. The two of them set aside their plates for a moment to chat with each other. Then they moved on to the rest of the party. I kept a close eye on Them, waiting. At last they took a bite of a cookie, and once they did, nothing happened.

Nothing. Happened.

What?! No. How? The cookies, I had been so careful! Then I remembered. The Interruptor. I searched desperately for this person in the crowd. They must have the cookies. I had to stop them. Someone screamed.

It was too late.

There the person was, collapsed on the ground. Dead, no doubt. I had never made a mistake before.

I didn’t panic, though. Instead, I rushed to their side and placed my fingers at their neck, as though to feel for the nonexistent pulse. “It’s okay!” I called out to the crowd surrounding me, “They’re fine. It was probably just a tad too much eggnog.” I grinned and chuckled, to add effect.

Many people sighed with relief, while a few laughed nervously. I dragged the body to my room and tucked their lifeless form into the closet. I would deal with that later.

Back at the party, it was truly as if nothing had even happened, as if there wasn’t a dead person chilling in the host’s closet. For that, I was grateful. Now it was time for plan B. Their eggnog. Surely that had to work. I located Their cup and went into action.

It was almost an hour later, and I sat on my pantry floor with my face buried in my hands in frustration. This clearly wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? I sighed with resignation. I supposed it was about time to use my last resort. This was something I had never been required to do to succeed. It was definitely a bad day for me.

I got up, shook myself, and took a deep breath. Upon opening my pantry door, I found myself face to face with Them. They gave me a concerned, yet winning smile. For a moment, I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Are you doing alright?” They asked me.

“Pardon?”

“It’s just that you were in there for a while.” They gestured towards the pantry.

“Oh that. Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Well, alright. That’s good, at least. Let me know if you need anything. Want to get back to the rest of the chaos?” They offered their hand.

“Thanks,” I smiled weakly and walked back to the party with Them.

I had to get it together. Even though I wasn’t incredibly well-versed in this, per se, I promised myself I would succeed. I had to.

Throughout the rest of the party, I stayed close to Them. They didn’t seem to mind it, and, quite frankly, neither did I. We talked together, laughed together, talked more. A lot more. We were notably enjoying each other’s company. We both drank. They seemed just a little bit out of it, but remained thoughtful and sincere. I managed to keep a clear head. Mostly.

It was getting later and we had been standing together in one corner. To this day I really don’t remember what either of us said. I just remember both of us laughing, then looking quietly at one another. Neither of us really knew what to say. As I stared at Them it sort of just hit me. They were beautiful. Really beautiful. It was truly a shame. That was the point at which I was closest to regretting what was about to happen.

I reached my hand toward Theirs. They grasped it willingly, a small smile playing across Their lips. I realized this was going to be almost too easy in the end. I leaned forward. “Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more… quiet?” I mumbled in Their ear.

I lead Them out of the clusters of people, down the hall, and to my room. The moment the door was shut, I wrapped my arms around Them and our lips met in a deep kiss. I tried to subtly maneuver our way to a table and reached for a syringe of anaesthetic that lay ready. They grabbed my wrist and broke the kiss. “I don’t think so,” They said.

“What?” I said, taken aback.

“I know why you invited me here,” They admitted, “I’ve known at least since that other person was poisoned. You’re very lucky that those other people out there have never seen a dead person before.”

I thought vaguely of the corpse in my closet.

“Oh.”

“So why don’t you put that down,” They said, nodding to the syringe, “and forgo poisoning me for now?”

I set it back on the table. I gently kissed Them once more. I laughed softly.

“What is it?” They whispered.

“Oh darling,” I said, “you’ve already been poisoned.”

The End