A man of adverse years, girth and emissions Bob realized that the remaining treats which awaited him would most likely come from the table in the break room. Seeing a sheen lining to this providence he decided to take whatever was left even if it was the last one left. Especially if it was the last one left.
One cookie remained. Who cared to bring them, he didn’t care. All were aware of the inevitable victor. ‘Bourgeois trash’ remarked one hemisphere of his mind to the other as he heard the office thicklet straining through crumbs to expound on an article in the New Yorker. The kaleidoscopic varietals of women within the office kept his constant vigilance but never deterred him from purpose. Cookie.
Melissa thought to remark,
“Look darling, Santa’s come early again.”
No matter. His hand sprang furiously like Apollo grasping at the sun from a chariot. Success, but it felt unnatural? It was ceramic and attached to the dish itself. It was a decoy!