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He then told me that he had taken the liberty to make my cup of coffee. He pulled out a cup from underneath the table and placed it in front of me with a crooked smile. Samuel told me that he had made the coffee while I was in the other room. Looking down I saw nothing but plain black coffee. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about it except for the, oh-oh yes those are Venezuelan beans, the most delicious in the entire world. I could never forget that scent after I stowed away in a barrel half full of coffee beans smuggling myself out of South America and into the US. I spent twelve hours in total euphoria. All I had with me was a bladder of water and three stolen kudos bars. It was a shame I had to dump out half of the barrel just to fit, but I saved as many beans as I could by leaving myself with only enough space to breathe. I asked Samuel where he could possibly have found beans as pure as the ones he had used in my coffee. He told me that I deserved only the best, and that after all I was the best friend he had ever had. It felt like I had just robbed my grandmother’s house for money, there was so much guilt lingering above me. In fact it feels worse then robbing my grandmother’s house for money because I did that once. I was absolutely desperate in those days. I was living on the street, making money off of people’s empathy for me. I knew I had to do something or else my hole that I had dug myself into would become my ultimate grave. I decided that I had to turn to theft to make my living, but I didn’t have enough courage to do anything radical like a pharmacy or anything of that caliber. No with my physical state all I could manage was a retirement home. But I decided not to do that because there are usually lots of those old people there, and they could have outnumbered me 200 to 1. That would have turned ugly real fast, and I didn’t want anything to go wrong. So with my options drifting away I realized that the only robbery that I could possibly manage was my grandmother’s house. I thought that since she hated me it wouldn’t make much difference, but I was wrong. She ended up going bankrupt because of me. That was when I really started to feel the agony. So that is how bad that moment at the dinner table with Samuel felt. Samuel had requested a tissue, so I obliged and took off to the bathroom to retrieve one. When I handed it to him he had an unusual glare that made me feel uncomfortable, but I could’nt show this in fear of him seeing that I had future aspirations for his life on earth. Trying to not to stare into his eyes I took a sip of the coffee he had given me. Setting it down I tasted something that clearly was not coffee in my mouth. My eyes opened wide as I noticed the cup that I gave to Samuel was now sitting before me. A small drop of green liquid trickled down my chin as I fell back in my chair, dead.

Samuel smiled wickedly and sipped his coffee. He got up from his chair and set his cup down on the table. Samuel picked up the news paper laying on the lacquered mahogany countertop, and walked outside to the beautiful autumn evening. He stoped suddenly as a dog smothered in mud ran by. He had finally accomplished what he had been planning to do for years now.

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He then told me that he had taken the liberty to make me my own cup of coffee, and he pulled out a cup from underneath the table and placed it in front of me with a crooked smile. His smile resembled that of a mad man’s. Samuel’s eyes stared directly into mine with an unbreakable gaze. Trying not to blow my cover I respectfully declined the cup because it yielded an irrepressible odor unlike anything even I could fathom coffee smelling like. I also saw a few small bubbles rise to the top that after surfacing exploded into a green haze. That was not coffee. It resembled the stuff that drips from the bed of broken down automotive vehicle placed in the back left corner of a trash dump because it was said to bring down the overall atmosphere, lowering workers spirits just by the site of it. Yes that could not pass as coffee even to a blind man that lost all sense of smell after he stopped smoking. Samuel was trying to kill me, and I was trying to kill him. And strangely enough we were both using coffee to do it. Although this was known now by both of us we each pretended to not notice anything, waiting for the most opportune time to strike. We each stood up simultaneously. He said he had to use the restroom and I said I left the TV on upstairs. The battle scene was set. Dashing out of the room I grabbed a knife ready for close combat with my mortal enemy. But Samuel came prepared, drawing a 9mm pistol out of a holster inside his jacket. Three gunshots were fired in a row, two of which flew passed me without harm. The third one clipped my ear drawing the first blood. I can’t believe the nerve of him, firing a gun at me like I was some kind of bandit. He used to worship me, and look at him now, acting like some kind of lunatic. I at least am being a gentleman by electing a knife as my weapon of choice. Only cowards would use a gun in this situation. My ear was now covered in blood. Samuel was chasing me through the house, unloading rounds left and right. He was out to kill. There were no prisoners in his mind. I turned the corner and threw myself into a closet, watching him run by through a crack in the door. Then he walked slowly backwards, stopping in front of the closet that I had concealed myself inside of. Samuel glanced at the crack in the door, and at that moment I leaped out of the closet wrapping my body around his legs bringing him down to the ground with a crash. His gun was flung out of his hand because of the surprise attack. With my knife in my right hand, I drove it through his sternum making sure to dig it in as deep as it would go. Samuel let out a howl of imminent pain. His head slowly descended to the ground and it was all over.

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This issue is causing me trouble far beyond intention. It was supposed to be a quick little murder that wasn’t going to have any negative implications. But now it has become an enormous mess of tangled lines of thought that are impossible to sort out. 99% of my brain is convinced that Samuel Kringstone must die, and I am the only person to do it. 7% of my brain is telling me that someone else will recognize his extreme stupidity and they will finish him off. And a mere 3% of my brain is telling me that he could turn out being someone worth knowing. You would think that 90% of my brain can make my decisions, but that three % still has a say in it, although I wish he didn’t. And the 3% is working alongside that 7% to tell me not to do this. Alright I’ve settled this, and I am not going to chicken out. I am going to walk in there and kill that rat of a man Samuel Kringstone. All I have to do is poor the rat poison in his coffee and be done with the man. It’s just the actual killing part I am a bit unsure about. Everything else is set though. The victim is in the kitchen waiting for a meal that has been prolonged much further then the appropriate amount of delay. The rat poison is in my pocket waiting for a chance to get into the mouth of something living to drain the life from it like pulling the plug of a bath tub. Having the water be life and the plug to the drain being our logical mind keeping us from doing something stupid and killing ourselves. And the cup of coffee also waiting to be devoured relentlessly because of its shier deliciousness is right there in front of me. It’s a real shame it has to be ruined first of all by being given to Samuel Kringstone, and second of all by being made lethal with poison. Man coffee is the best thing that ever happened to this world. And I have to give it away to a bloke like Samuel. Well, I think my brain is finally coming to an agreement with me. Killing this man is what I have to do and it is what I am going to do. Yes. I stuck my hand into my pocket revealing bottle with dead black liquid ominously sitting there undisturbed. Popping the cap off, I looked down into it sweating like an assassin in a confessional. It looked so pure although in reality it was a death potion made to kill and that was it. I poured it into the decaffeinated (as specified by Samuel) cup of steaming coffee. The poison bubbled and splashed as it mixed, and put off an odor only lasting long enough to draw a tear from my eye, then vanished back into the sweet smell of coffee I know so well. The bubbles finally came to a halt when I set the cup down in front of Samuel. He said thank you in such a way that made him look innocent. He then told me that he had taken the liberty to make me my own cup of coffee, and he pulled out a cup from underneath the table and placed it in front of me with a crooked smile.

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He walked in the room unknowingly. What ignorance he had for what was going to become of him. I told Samuel to walk into the kitchen, and that the meal was on its way. Samuel Kringstone is my absolute worst enemy, although he thinks he’s my best friend. See, I am too afraid to tell him upfront that I hate him because then that would be rude. I don’t like him but I still want him to like me, but still know I don’t like him. It makes perfect sense, right? All I know is that today is the day that I will finally get rid of this problem once and for all. “I’ll be right there Samuel!” You see he is the most annoying person alive and I am doing society a favor by giving him rat poison with his meal. Its not that mean if you think about it, its not, really. Even if it is, I don’t care. It simply has to be done and I am the first person to see that so it is my responsibility to do it. I have to kill him. And after I do it I will be the most noble man in the whole city of Smaltownsvillechestertonville! The mayor will give me the keys to the city, I will have a supermodel wife, get free smoothies at Jamba Juice for the rest of my life, and be the first person to own a hover car. It all works out. I simply have to walk into the kitchen and poor the rat poison into his coffee. Thats it. Its that simple. I just have to do it. On the count of three. Oh man this is hard! He’s a nice guy. No, no he’s a horrible person, a threat to society, and lies about being a member of the peace core, I think. Actually I have’nt confirmed that yet. My inside source is a little unreliable. Anyways, I have to do it! Thats it, here I go…No this is so wrong, I cant do it. Please just stop reading this I have to think.

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