Tivka was mildly sure that a crazy, possessed witch had been building a tunnel under his workplace for the last three months.
He was so distracted by this thought that the frosting on the cake was crooked. So he and his boyfriend, Keyol, gave up on that for a bit. Tivka scribbled his 7th plot point on the graph. Little did he know it'd be his last. Keyol was looking over his shoulder, his breath fanning his neck, eyes fixed on the pencil.
"Hmm. I wonder what this drawing will turn out to be," Tivka mused. (They will never live to figure it out. Subtle foreshadowing.) Keyol uttered 18 different slurs in response. Tivka nodded in agreement.
After analyzing the paper for a few more minutes, Keyol broke the silence. "Tivka, should we get back to work? We've been drawing for 20 minutes. If the chef comes in, he'll be pissed." The chef was their overbearing, beachy boss.
"You're so right, pookie. Let's get back to baking."
Tivka suddenly tripped over a hole the length of human shoulders and the width of a human head. Suspicious. He quickly slipped his headphones on to stifle a reaction, grabbed a mixing spoon, and meshed a mixture for what would be the cake's frosting together, hardly noticing the mirror-like liquid splattered on top.
The taste test came next.
Tivka gingerly scooped a bit of the mixture in a spoon and licked it. It tasted oddly metallic, but sweet nonetheless. Good enough, that's what he always said, as a victim of capitalism under the bordering dictatorship of his shatty boss.
Meanwhile, Keyol could vaguely hear the shallow breathing of another person from around the corner. It was probably a rat, suffering from bordering dictatorship and capitalism too! TWIIIINSIEEE.
"Does it taste right?" Keyol gazed from the table, his sweaty, crusty hand on the graph.
"It tastes weirdly like metal. Could you come take a look?"
"Of course, pooks!" His hot boyfriend frolicked over to the table and dipped a spoon into the fluffy goodness, lapping it up and immediately collapsing.
A wave of nausea rolled over Tivka. Even his headphones couldn't stifle a reaction such as this. "MY LOOOOOOVE-"
And then he promptly collapsed atop his love's corpse, too.
The narrator read from a cue card, information pulled right from the Wiki. "CAYENA WAS A FOOLISH, WICKED AND ARROGANT WOMAN WHO COULDN'T EVEN REALIZE SHE WAS BEING USED AND MANIPULA-" The narrator dropped dead from mercury poisoning a second later. Looks like someone wanted cream. I MEAN FROSTING, WHAT????
A small, fair woman called Cayena popped out of the corner where the breathing was coming from. "Muahhaha! My plan will now come into fruition… what?"
Instead of the rotting corpse of the chef, the man who had taken Cayena's precious boyfriend, Ryan, she saw the small rotting corpses of two, very, very, very, very, ugly people.