I brushed a few crumbs from the sweatshirt I had picked up from the clearance rack. My grilled cheese and sweet potato fries had long ago turned cold. My chocolate milk was finished, save for a few drops of liquid at the bottom of the glass. It was time to get to business. _So, the story needs...something._ I gestured with my straw. _You think I haven't noticed? It's bordering on dime-store novel._ _Thanks, that's helpful._ _I was thinking it needs a murder. Every good story has a murder in it. If not a murder, then the threat of murder._ _You know something? You've got a real problem with morbidity. Maybe it needs a happy ending. Something inspiring._ _You know what's inspiring? A big musical number that leads up to a murder. Classic! Oh, you can never go wrong with a classic!_ _Classic?_ I asked, my patience growing thin and my sarcasm growing. _Murder provides a quick end to an otherwise ongoing story._ _Well, in that case..._ I fingered the knife beside my plate. I vowed that I wouldn't miss. http://ficlets.com/feed/story/29207