Head pounding Steve wandered into the kitchen looking for a coffee, but expecting a fight. However Jen was nowhere to be seen. Last night they had been drinking, then brawling, and he had ended up sleeping on the couch.
On the table was a glass of juice accompanied by a note in Jen’s familiar scrawl; ‘Drink Me’. Steve swigged it down wincing at the bitter taste.
The room swam.
As the neurotoxins entered his bloodstream Steve felt his chest contract, squeezing the breath out of him. He slumped to the floor.
Under the table was a cup-cake labelled ‘Eat Me’.