Harvey's Soap.

Harvey's wife had bought the wrong soap. She knew it. At least, he knew that she knew it. It was obvious anyways. The soap he always bought for himself was a tan color, this was blue. He didn't have time, so he made the mistake of asking his wife. Of course she ruined this too. She was getting back at him for something, but he didn't care what.

His face dry and probably cracking, he went to work like every day. Like every day he took the same ride up to the elevator, took the same route past that prick Ricky's office, Laura, that bitch, David's uptight secretary. Harvey sat in his lonely cubicle. Emails e-meetings, online poker. He finished his work by lunch. He'd usually hang a sign saying "Harvey Out" on his cubicle and head to the bar when this happened.

Harvey couldn't eat at lunch. He couldn't do anything. He obsessed over how dry his face was. Scratching it, rubbing his eyes, and then he obsessed over the zits he'd get from touching his face. Then a moment of clarity, finally. He saw his co-workers in their little cliques, they were holding him back, always shooting him down. But he knew who they really were, and he'd get them back. He watched them until lunch was over. Everyone walked back to their fake ass little lives, David, his secretary, Laura and Ricky. Harvey wondered what his wife was doing, what would she do next to get back at him?

Harvey stood tall once he was sure they were all back to work. Pulling something from his briefcase, he took the same route past Ricky's office, Laura... He hung up his sign, erased the marker and wrote "Harvey wins." He drove home instead of to the bar.

"Oh, you're home early," Harvey's wife said. There she goes, Harvey thought, being the fucking genius she is. Harvey kissed her and sat down at the table. "Do you want me to make you a sandwich?"

"No, I just had lunch." But, Harvey hadn't eaten. They heard sirens. Harvey's wife looked out the window.

"Oh, maybe Mrs. Lewis fell again, the police are there."

"Maybe they'll come here too," Harvey said back to her.

"Don't be silly, why would th-"

Harvey kissed his wife again, against the wall. He groped her breast with one hand, held her waist with the other. Then he pulled away. He leaned down to grab his briefcase, smiled up at his wife, and said "let me just go over and see if they need any help." Another siren rang, another police car. Harvey's wife winked at him and headed for the bedroom.

Harvey pulled something from his briefcase once he walked into Mrs. Lewis's yard. The police shot him down.