A Cake To Die For

A Cake To Die For

By Matthew “Snooglebum” Wasik

“Hey Genene, I got your message, calling you back. So I know you and Nate have been having problems, so here’s what I suggest: get a kitchen knife, the sharpest one you have. Sharpen that sucker up even more, so it cuts through stuff real good. Ok, so you’ve got your weapon, check. So next you need to catch Nate when he’s off-guard or vulnerable. Best time would be when he’s asleep, if you can manage that, like after you two have had sex or something. If not, settle for when he’s watching a movie.

Alright, so you’ve got him with his pants down-- literally, I guess, depending on when you want to go through with it-- so all that’s left is the stabbing. A straight throat-cut won’t do, cause he’ll still be able to scream. So instead you want to stab through both his carotid arteries-- you can look up a diagram online or something--, then punch forward and down with the blade, cutting his vocal cords. You have to do this fast, for obvious reasons. Ah crap, I have to go to work soon, so I’ll follow up with you on corpse-disposal and alternate methods. Love ya, bye.”

Layla prepared to go to work. As she was driving to her place of employment, a call from Genene appeared on her phone screen, which she accepted.

“Oh! Hi Genene, how are you? Did you hear--”

“Layla, I asked for your recipe for gluten-free cake, not advice on how to kill my boyfriend.”

There was an awkward silence.

“You did?” asked Layla.

“I did.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Layla. I think I would remember asking you for tips on how to kill Nate.”

“Oh. I guess I remembered wrong.”

“I guess so.”

“Are you at work?”

“Yeah.”

There was another awkward silence, this one even more silent and even more awkward.

“Layla, what’s your problem?” said Genene heatedly.

“What do you mean, what’s my problem? I have no problem.”

“Yes you do! You’ve been trying to kill Nate even since I met him!”

“No I haven’t! When have I tried to kill him?”

“Remember that one time you were over, and you had the kitchen knife in your hand, and you ‘tripped’?”

“I did trip! There was a thing on the ground!”
“There wasn’t anything on the ground! And remember the New Years Eve party, where you threw a knife at him, and then said there was, quote, ‘a fly on the wall behind him’?”

“There was! I hate flies!”

“So you were going to kill it with a knife from across the room?!”

“Yes! I’m good with knives!”

“That much I know! And remember last week when you said ‘I’m gonna go kill Nate’, and then you tried to kill him?!”

Silence.

“Remember?!”

“...Yeah, that one is on me.”

“What is your problem, Layla?”

“He’s bad for you! He’s a jerk, Genene!”

“Yes, I know! I’m breaking up with him soon! But that doesn’t mean he deserves to die!”

“I’m just trying to make this easier on you, Genene! You two have been together for years, and you live together! What’s worse, a long and ugly breakup, or just me killing him and getting it over with? Plus you get to keep his stuff!”

“I don’t think I get to keep his stuff. I don’t think that’s how that works, Layla.”

“Is it not?”

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t have a will, so his property would go to the state.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Don’t kill my boyfriend, Layla.”

“But--”

“Don’t kill my boyfriend, Layla.”

Layla sighed.

“Fine. Whatever. Don’t listen to the girl who’s been in a bunch of different relationships before.”

“...Which have all ended because you killed whoever you were dating!”

“It’s an efficient solution!”

“For you, maybe! Layla, do not kill my boyfriend!”

“Ugh, Fine! I won’t! See if I care! And I do care, since I’m your friend and I want you to be happy!”

Layla could hear Genene give out a world-weary sigh on the other end of the phone.
“Thank you for your concern, Layla. I want you to be happy too. Just not if that means you fatally stabbing Nate.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Nix the stabbing.”

“Nix the stabbing, yes.”

“Alright, fine. I wasn’t going to do it myself, anyway.”

“Nix telling me how to do the stabbing.”

“Alright, gotcha. Jeez. You threaten to kill one guy once--”

“--dozens of times--” Genene interjected.

“--dozens of times, and this is what happens.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Alright.”

They both were quiet for a moment.

“Look--”
“It’s ok, Layla, I know you were just trying to help. In your own, serial killer way.”

“Yeah… I worry about you, Genene, in that little rat-hole apartment, working a crappy low-paying, retail job, it makes a girl want to pitch in, y’know?”

Genene chuckled. “Thanks, Layla. Are we still on for a girls night out Sunday?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Alright, cool. Ok, break’s almost over, gotta go. Don’t kill Nate.”

Layla rolled her eyes, smiling.

“If you insist. Bye, Genene.”

“Buh-bye.”

The night passed over, and the next day arrived. Layla called Genene again, who didn’t pick up. Layla decided to leave a message.

“Hey Genene, it’s Layla. I just remembered, I never actually gave you my recipe for gluten-free cake, did I?”

THE END