"I need you to start working nights," My boss said. "Starting tonight."

"I can't work tonight, Janice," I argued. "Tonight's my daughter's twelfth birthday."

"That's lovely," Janice picked at her incredibly fake nails. "Tell her happy birthday for me when you get home. Tomorrow."

She walked away, swinging her hips in a way she thought made her more attractive. In reality, it made her look like a wannabe Kardashian. I gritted my teeth in fury. I knew who I was going to play with tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I opened the door to her office. Everyone had gone home, and technically I should have already been home.

"How can I help you, Mr. Lane?" She asked.

"I was just looking for a stapler. My extremely small desk doesn't have one."

I started the situation off by complaining, exactly how she would expect me to. This should be fun.

"You may borrow mine, Mark," She glared at me and weakly pushed the stapler over to me.

How gullible. I didn't even have anything in my hands. I lunged at her, pressing her against the wall, my hands around her throat. She screamed.

"Now, now," I grinned wickedly. "Let's behave ourselves.

She shrieked again. 

"Let's seal those lips of yours, shall we?" 

I raised the stapler to her lips and squeezed it, she cried out in agony as blood trickled down her chin. I put in several more staples. Finally, her lips were completely sealed. I then pulled my knife out of my pocket and slid it excruciatingly slowly across her throat, watching the blood coat her entire body. I sliced off her ears and watched as they landed in the pool of blood beneath us. Then, I removed her eyeballs and squashed them under my feet. I carefully cut off her eyelids and nose, and dropped her. 

How do I make this creative? I thought.

Aha!

I grabbed her "world's best boss" coffee mug off of her desk and held it under her throat. I waited until it was completely full. Then, I wrapped her pale, ice-cold fingers around the handle. I admired my work. 

"I don't like working nights, hon," I cackled. "Good riddance."

I walked out of the building to catch a cab to the home where my twelve-year-old daughter was preparing to make her very first kill.