Pete Connors opened the invitation, postmarked earlier that week. It was to yet another upscale party. He sighed and tossed it onto the small mountain of invitations sitting atop his table. The phone rang. Pete sighed again and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Pete? Hi, it's Leslie. Did you get the invitation to Bob SimperÕs party?"

"Yeah. Along with an invitation to every other party in this city."

Leslie laughed. "YouÕre always so cynical. You are planning to attend, arenÕt you?"

As a matter of fact, Pete hadnÕt planned on doing anything, but since Leslie Wonton would be there, and Pete had been madly in love with her for quite some time, he could make a few changes to his schedule. Although her husband Dan would probably be there. Dan, who took Leslie away from Pete.

"I donÕt know. Bob's such a crusty old gentleman," joked Pete.

Leslie laughed again, then sobered. "I wish you would come. It would be so good to see you there." She hung up. What if I could kill Dan tonight? The thought came unbidden. It made Pete uneasy to think about it. How could he even think of murder?

The party was enormous, of course. Pete mingled with the crowd, looking for Leslie. She found him instead. Unfortunately, she was with her husband, Dan the Wretch, who needed to die. No! Pete didn't understand why he was thinking of killing Dan. It was pure madness.

"Oh Pete, IÕm so glad you showed up."

"So am I. I needed to get out of the house, and I'm feeling much better already," he lied, thinking of how much he hated Dan for stealing Leslie. But that was no cause for the thoughts of misdeed he was having. Pete shifted his weight nervously.

"That's so true. Hey, I'll talk to you later, okay?" She gave him a skeptical look, then turned and was gone.

"Sure," said Pete, but she didn't hear. Dan followed her. Pete followed them both. Dan leaned over to whisper in Leslie's ear.

"I get the feeling like Pete hates me," he said.

"That's nonsense. He's just unsettled, that's all. Why don't you try to be nice to him? Offer him a drink. I still care for him, you know..." At this, Pete's heart leapt and he went off into his private thoughts. "But not in that way. Don't worry, Dan." Pete didnÕt hear. If I could just get rid of Dan, thought Pete, she would come running to me. All mine. But it's wrong. Murder is wrong. There were laws against it for a reason. Nothing good could come of killing Dan. Except pure, sweet revenge. But it was still wrong. He came out of his reverie to find Dan staring at him.

"What do you want?" snarled Pete.

"Nothing, I was just thinking. Hey, listen, can I get you a drink?"

"No, I can get my own drink, you failure," Pete snapped. What a worm. He stormed off, thinking of how good it would feel to kill Dan, which still felt wrong, but strangely didn't feel quite as wrong. There was no law against exacting vengeance, right? Was it so bad to be angry at someone for stealing your most treasured thing from you? Was it such an evil thing to want to right things? To get that thing back?

Later on, Pete looked around for Leslie. Ah, there she was, shining like a beacon in the night. She was leaving. Where was Dan? Dan who needed to die. It was bad to think of it, but it would be so relieving. And it wouldnÕt be all that terrible to do. No one would catch him. Murder was wrong. But it's not that wrong. I think I can get away with it, thought Pete. He found himself following Leslie out the door. He bumped into Dan.

"Oh, hi again." Dan smiled.

"I hate you," muttered Pete vehemently under his breath. Dan must have heard, because he rushed out after Leslie like a scared cat. And suddenly, without even thinking about it, Pete knew how the weakling Dan would die. A knife to the throat. But not without some punishment first. Perhaps Dan wouldn't miss his fingers...

Pete watched silently from his car as Leslie and Dan got ready for bed, thoughts of fingers trailing blood floating languidly in his mind. He could see in through the window.

"I just get this feeling," said Dan.

"Oh Dan, youÕre just trying to find something to worry about. I'm sure we're fine. I'm sure you're fine."

"I don't know. Pete was pretty angry when I offered him a drink. And he was muttering about hating me. Do you think he wants to kill me?"

"No! Pete's not that way. I'm sure it's nothing. Speaking of drinks, I'm going to get something for us, okay? That'll make you feel better." Leslie giggled.

"But we don't have any-"

"Then I'll go out and get some."

"But-- okay. You're probably right. You're always right."

"It'll do you good. The store is right around the corner. I'll only be gone for a few minutes. What could possibly happen?" She didn't give him a chance to answer, snatching the keys from the dresser and hurrying out of the room. Dan sat down in a chair in the corner, glancing around nervously.

Pete stole over the grass, looking for an entry. The front door opened suddenly. Pete dove into a shadow, huddled against the side of the house. Leslie came out with keys in hand. She was heading down the street. Pete couldn't believe his good fortune. Dan was going to die! And Leslie would be his! He snuck over to the bedroom window and poked his head above the windowsill. There was Dan, cowering in a chair. What a weak minded fool, thought Pete. He moved back around to the front, opened the door, went inside.

"Leslie? Is that you? Did you decide not to go out?" came DanÕs voice from the bedroom. Yes, that's exactly it, thought Pete, over here. I don't want to do anything bad to you. It's just revenge. It's okay. It's not wrong. Pete left the door open and dipped into a dark room, just to the side of the door. Dan came down the hall.

"That's odd. I guess the wind must have blown it open." Dan shut the door, locked it, and turned. Everything seemed to slow down for Pete. He was sure he was leaping out of the room, but it felt like he was floating. He bumped casually into Dan, who fell slowly to the floor. Dan rolled over to look up at Pete. A terrible look came over Dan's face as Pete produced a sinister looking knife from his coat and knelt down on Dan. A maniacal grin threatened to split Pete's face as Dan struggled to free himself. Pete grinned all the wider as he splayed DanÕs hand out on the floor, spreading the fingers apart.