Masquerade!

Pasqulle went to the masquerade with high hopes. Dressed in a burgundy cloak from head to toe, he was completely unrecognizable.

The poison he bought the day before was sure to work; it had to work. There was only a brief window of time for him to slip it into the guests refreshments - and he knew it.

Pasqulle made his way through the crowd. It was in a passing instant that he saw her out of the corner of his eye. Her beauty was undeniable... he then understood that the mission had been compromised. She had gained access to his hollow black heart, and he could never harm her... he couldn't even consider it.

Instead he climbed the stairs overlooking the main ballroom. When he reached the top, Pasqulle pulled himself over the banister, made the sign of the cross, and then swan dove forty feet down onto the banquette table below; his fall being broken by a stuffed boar.

As the guests gathered round his broken and contorted body, he began to mutter something... "It's all so clear to me now." he sighed - "But how am I going to explain this mess to the dry cleaners."