Rush

Marvin had been planning Leeann's demise for years; he'd run countless scenarios and used a data model to predict not only discovery of her remains, but the likelihood of incarceration for her murder. Marvin was cunning and shrewd, relentless and meticulous, and it took him completely by surprise when she managed to kill him first. From the misty lobby in Limbo, he watched as Leeann (winning an Oscar for feigning fragility) stumbled through the burial (choking back sobs and leaning heavily on others for support), then rose from a nap after condolences and finger sandwiches back at the house with the blush of young girl prominent in each cheek. She poured herself a glass of champagne. "Are you watching and are you curious, dear?" Leeann whispered, sitting down in the living room wearing a silk robe (Marvin nodded "yes" to watching AND curious and found it interesting that the robe was new). "An extract - a tiny bit of dried whatever finding its way into every meal. South American. Same color as parsley. Tasteless. Really nothing much to write home about, except that it builds up over time and reacts violently to a rush of adrenalin. I knew that it was going to be close - it would come down to a single moment of You or Me, but you got so excited, darling; in the end, it was your evil glee that did it. Death by premature smug satisfaction." "Brilliantly done ... and impossibly embarrassing," Marvin reflected, remembering a more loving time and waiting an eternity to be judged further.