Yes, I done it. I killed Moffitt. I walked into his office and while his back was turned I shot him two times. Like a shadow, he fell to the floor, never a gasp or a whimper. He collapsed like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been severed. I stood there momentarily, expecting Moffitt’s head to turn and face me. I expected to see his deceitful smirk one last time, but it never happened.

I’m sure Moffitt knew I was there. He knew I was his assassin. It was by choice that he just lay there. Nobody would give up life so easily. Normal men would use their dying breath to see who had done them in, but not Moffitt. He knew it was me. He wouldn’t acknowledge me, even at his death. Death was just what his indignant attitude had gotten him and it was well deserved.

I remember the first day I came to work for Moffitt. It was eight years ago this week. I had worked in this industry for seventeen years before I lost my last job. I wasn’t actually fired. I was reengineered out of work. That was the new way to get rid of older employees and Moffitt knew what had happened to me. Never less, Moffitt gave me a brief talk on working hard and not shorting the clock, like I had a history of misconduct. He didn’t proffer up even a single ounce of respect for me. He just said, "Welcome aboard and get to work."

From that day until this Moffitt hasn’t given me my due. Once when I was home ill with the flu he dropped by after work, escorted by his prep school teenage daughter in her school uniform, bearing flowers and pretending to deliver get well wishes. I knew what he was up to. I knew he was just checking to see if I was really sick. When they left I told my dog Ray that I hoped they both caught the flu and died. Even as stupid as Ray is, I could tell he didn’t like them either.

Moffitt had his chances. I attended every Christmas party. When asked, I even worked over, if I could. I didn’t always stay, but I had other obligations. I had Ray to care for. I could always see the bitterness it in Moffitt’s eyes the morning after I turned down overtime. He looked at me like I was trying to get away with something or like I had cheated someone. He never said a thing. It was just that smirk he gave me. I knew what he was thinking.

Now this insipid little freak of society has paid the price for his arrogance and resentful attitude. I’m sure this will cost me, but I’m willing to pay the price. Let me stand before my peers and tell them how Moffitt badgered me for years, how he gloated about his success and how he never recognized me for the man I am. Let me tell them about his prim and proper code of office conduct. He wasn’t a dog owner. If they know that, they will know something about Moffitt.

It was time Moffitt paid the price for being what he was. I just happened to be the one who got forced into doing the job. I hope all the other Moffitt’s out there get the message before they will meet their shooter.