The Art of Thinking Twice

Content Warning: Discussions of murder, death, workplace misconduct, and strong language.

Arthur Simms had never seen a dead body before, and he most certainly didn’t think he’d ever be responsible for creating one. But there he was, standing in Christopher Gene Maxuel Glimmer Jr.’s office on the 42nd floor of Questionable Innovations LLC.

His boss lay on the floor only a few feet from him while a construction company banged away at the wall next door.

“911, what is the nature of your emergency?” The operator’s voice was nasally and indifferent.

“I just poisoned my boss!” Arthur shouted over the construction.

“Sir, can you repeat that?”

“I said: I just poisoned my boss!”

A large drill tore through the plaster.

“You moistened your sauce?”

“I SAID: I POISONED. MY. FUCKING. BOSS!”

TWO HOURS LATER

Arthur sat in the interrogation room and stared at the officer in front of him. They had been sitting there in silence for over fifteen minutes. Arthur wasn’t sure if it was some sort of police technique to make him nervous, but if it was, then it was working.

“So, Mr... what was your name again?” The officer flipped through the paperwork in front of him.

“Arthur Simms.”

“Right, Arthur Simms. Can I call ya Art?”

“Yes.”

“Alrighty, Art buddy. My name is Officer Thyme. Like the spice. People around here are always joking. They come to me if they wanna know the time.” He let out a laugh. “Get it? Cause ‘time’ and ‘Thyme’ both sound the same.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“‘You got the time, Officer Thyme?’ That’s what they’re always saying around here. We like to joke. So, Art buddy, you been read your rights?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t want a lawyer.”

“No.”

“Alrighty. So, at 12:15 today, you called 911 and yelled ‘I killed my boss.’” Officer Thyme squinted at the report.

“Poisoned.”

“Hm?”

“I said: I poisoned my boss.”

“Sorry. Got old eyes.” He tapped his glasses with a chuckle. “So, starting at the beginning. Tell me in your own words what happened today.”

“Well. The day started out the same as any other day...”

PART ONE: A CORPORATE CLUSTER FUCK

Arthur woke up at exactly 6:00, showered, ate a quick breakfast, and then took the subway to 12th Avenue.

Questionable Innovations LLC was in a huge skyscraper crammed between a small deli and an abandoned nail salon. The inside was shiny and new. It had 42 floors and 18 elevators. It stuck out like a corporate cluster fuck slapped in the middle of an otherwise rundown neighborhood.

Arhurt had prepared himself for another hellish day and was feeling almost positive until he got an email from Mr. Christopher Gene Maxuel Glimmer Jr. asking to meet in his office.

Christopher Gene Maxuel Glimmer Jr. was a corporate nightmare. He cut every corner imaginable and made the employees’ lives a living hell. He seemed to enjoy torturing other people. He’d find a new target every week. And that particular week, Arthur was the one on the chopping block.

“Don’t have the stones to sit near the window, do ya Archie?” His laugh was particularly obnoxious that day.

Glimmer Jr. was well aware of Arthur’s fear of heights, and in response, had decided to turn his desk around so that his sofa was pressed up against the window pane.

“It's Arthur. We’re just… very high up.” He jumped at the sound of a sledgehammer making contact with the wall next door.

“What was that? These construction guys have been working for an hour. It’s driving me fucking bananas.”

“I’m just a little afraid of heights!” Arthur shouted as a saw began to whir.

“We’re all afraid of somethin’! Can’t let our fears stop us from succeeding!” Glimmer Jr. saluted, “Anyway, as you know, we had to let the IT department go! Not too big of a deal! Computers reboot themselves, right!? Still a damn shame to lose employees like that! But downsizing! What can you do!?”

A drill plowed through the wall, sending plaster flying across the office.

“Anyway, we’re gonna have to let you go! It’s a real shame, I tell ya! We’ll miss you for sure! Not like those IT guys! Bunch of fucking dorks, am I right, Archie!?”

“It’s Arthur! And um, I’m sorry, are you firing me!?”

“What!?”

“I said: ARE YOU FIRING ME!?”

The telephone rang.

“Hang on one minute, Archie!” Glimmer Jr. held the receiver to his ear. “Hey! Jerry! Man, how you been!? Yeah... No... Sorry, there’s some construction next door! Yeah, we should meet up at the course at 8! Yeah… HAHA... I’ll have to tell you about her! Hang on, let me step outside for a minute!”

He stepped into the hall, leaving Arthur in the office. Alone, 42 stories high, surrounded by chaos. Saws buzzed, hammers bashed, and Glimmer Jr. cackled like a hyena just outside the door. All the while, Arthur could hear his own heartbeat in his head at the thought of tumbling 500 feet. All of the sounds slapped together like an apocalyptic orchestra.

Which was fitting.

Arthur’s life was over. He’d be blacklisted from every company within a 200-mile radius. No more comfortable life. Everything he worked for slashed to pieces. And after a year of being pushed around, something in Arthur finally snapped.

He pulled the small baggy of poison out of his pocket, dumped it in Glimmer Jr.’s coffee, and swirled it around with his finger.

“Sorry about that! Jerry’s an old friend!” Glimmer Jr. sat back down and picked up his coffee mug.

Arthur watched him take a big gulp and drain the mug. The ceramic made a loud “THUNK” as he set it down on the desk. And that’s when it struck Arthur.

He’d just poisoned someone.

“OH GOD!” Arthur struggled as he crawled over the desk and shoved his fingers down his boss’s throat.

“WHAT THE-hmmerdng!”

“OW!!” Arthur felt the sharp pang of teeth dig into his skin.

“WHAT THE HELL!? I’M CALLING SECURITY! I—” Glimmer Jr.’s face suddenly turned pale.

His eyes widened. And with the elegance of a dying king in a play, he collapsed on the floor as the band of machinery played on.

“And that’s when you called 911 and said you killed your boss?” Officer Thyme picked at something between his teeth.

“I said I poisoned my boss. But yes.”

“So, you had the poison on you already?”

“Yeah, I bought it on the deep web about a year ago.”

“The deep web. Classic,” Officer Thyme pulled out the finger guns, “So, you bought the poison a year ago and held onto it?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think I’d actually use it. I just sort of carried it around for... I don’t know. Comfort, I guess.”

“A year ago?”

"Yeah, after Mr. Glimmer Sr. died.”

“Wait, I thought Glimmer was the guy you poisoned.”

“That’s Mr. Glimmer Jr.”

“Then who died a year ago?”

“Mr. Glimmer Sr.”

“Did ya poisoned him too?” Officer Thyme leaned in with an intrigued expression.

“No. Glimmer Sr. was the best boss anyone could ask for. He hired me right out of college. Without him, I would have been nowhere a long time ago.”

PART TWO: MOURNING MEETING

The first day Arthur walked through the front doors of Questionable Innovations LLC felt like a century ago.

He had worked hard.

Studied hard.

Sacrificed all the fun that came with being in his early 20s.

And at 21 years old, he had landed a job as a senior accountant at one of the biggest corporations in the country.

His salary gave him a comfortable living. He had a nice car, a decent apartment, and a fiancé he met at a yearly conference.

All thanks to Christopher Gene Maxuel Glimmer Sr. (or Gene, as he told people to call him).

Gene was a genuinely nice guy. While other CEOs were snobby and selfish, Gene cared about his employees and had a particular liking for Arthur, who he described as a second son.

Yes, Arthur’s life was everything he could hope for.

Until the day the news broke:

QUESTIONABLE INNOVATIONS CEO FOUND DEAD IN POOL

The entire company was devastated.

HR scheduled a mandatory “mourning meeting” (No one knew if this was a typo) in the conference room to celebrate Gene’s amazing life.

The faux funeral lasted forty-five minutes.

There was a slideshow with everything from Glimmer Sr.’s childhood photos to pictures of his wedding, and a tribute video of employees listing what they’d miss most about him. There was even a violin soundtrack in the background.

“He will always be remembered.” Barry from HR wept during his speech, “And now, some words from Mr. Glimmer Sr.’s son.”

A man waltzed into the conference room. His suit was pressed, his hair slicked back, and his tie was perfectly straight.

“My name is Christopher Gene Maxuel Glimmer Jr... My father was a great man.” He gazed into the distance, and a single tear ran down his cheek.

Everyone nodded.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking. ‘What are we going to do without a CEO?’ That’s why I’m here.” He beamed and gave the crowd a wink.

“Man, Jr. there sounds like an asshole.” Officer Thyme shook his head.

“You have no idea...”

PART THREE: AN UNLIKELY ENDING

Arthur’s first morning with his new boss started out the same as always. He showered. Ate breakfast. Took the subway. Rode the elevator to the fifth floor.

But when he got to his office, he noticed that everyone in their cubicles was standing at their desks.

“He took away our chairs. Something about ‘increasing productivity’.” Kevin, his old desk mate from before his promotion, huffed as he pulled at the telephone cord, which was too short to accommodate standing.

“Why is there tape over the bathroom doors?”

“Oh, he doesn’t want us taking ‘unnecessary breaks,’ so you’re only allowed to use the bathroom twice a day.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Tell that to Mr. Glimmer Jr.” Karen, the woman across from him, struggled to reach her stapler.

Unfortunately, that was just the beginning. Over the next twelve months, Glimmer Jr. slowly destroyed the company his father built.

“I bought the poison after he got rid of the whole IT department. I swear to God, I didn’t think I’d ever use it. I just sort of... snapped.” Arthur rubbed his eyes.

“Well,” Officer Thyme patted him on the shoulder, “I think that answers all our questions. We appreciate your time.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment.

“Wait? So, you’re not charging me?”

“Nope, we arrested you for murder, but it turns out you didn’t kill him.” Officer Thyme pointed at a line at the bottom of his paperwork.

“So, he’s not dead.”

“Oh no, he’s dead. As a fucking doornail. But your ‘poison’ isn’t what killed him. Almond milk was found in Mr. Glimmer’s coffee. He’s highly allergic.”

“You’re not gonna charge me with poisoning him?”

“I would, but it turns out the ‘poison’ you ordered was just a baggy filled with flour.”

“I paid a hundred dollars for that.” Arthur felt a sense of defeat.

“A very very expensive baggy.”

“But wouldn’t that still be attempted murder?”

“Just take the win, Art.” Officer Thyme shook his hand.

Arthur left the station a free man.

The next morning, he woke up at six, showered, ate breakfast, and got on the subway.

He felt a sense of peace as he took the elevator to the fifth floor.

But when the door open, he locked eyes with the last person he expected to see.

"Hey Archie, how you doing this morning? You look good. Well rested. Hey, when you get the chance come see me in my office. Thanks. You're the best Archie." Glimmer Jr waltzed away.

"It's Arthur." He smirked as he felt the familiar plastic baggy in his pocket.

THE END