One murder. One suicidal widow. One child with problems. One suspect. One murderer. How could this woman do this?

Billy was an innocent little fork, performing his duty as an electrician by repairing a burnt-out street light on the sidewalk spanning the front entrance of the Careerline Tech Center. Billy, made of plastic, tried to defend himself from the oncoming onslaught of tramping feet, even though he couldn’t move very fast due to a lack of two legs.

And then the human kicked poor, innocent Billy.

She wouldn’t stop. Billy was totally helpless, being forced to succumb to the thrashing that the human was bringing on. Billy was tossed backwards. The human kicked again. Scraping against the hard, unforgiving pavement, Billy once again got thrown. It just kept coming. Four kicks later, the human female stopped and continued on her way.

Billy couldn’t move. The brain damage – a chip in the body of the fork, which would be his brain area – has completely immobilized Billy. Caught in the cold, harsh weather with no protection or sympathy from passerby, Billy had died, by both exhaustion and pneumonia.

     * * *

            Nancy had just finished cleaning her little two bed, one bath apartment occupied by her, Billy, and their son, Joey the spork. Nancy was spending time cleaning out the dish of her head, for she was a spoon, when she got the call. Apparently, Nancy’s husband – Billy – had something done to him. Something awful.

Billy had gotten fired.

Nancy was a little sad, but Billy had a back-up plan in case this ever happened. He was going to fall back to his plan of being a world-famous rock star, and the band had already performed several gigs. And then the phone rang again.

Nancy was never more depressed in her life. As soon as the State Police of Utensila said that Billy had been murdered by a human, Nancy broke down and cried. These weren’t normal tears, no; they were all chunky and grease-like due to Nancy’s old job at a fast-food restaurant.

She couldn’t take it. Nancy grabbed Joey, who was almost a teenager yet stuck with a three year old state of mind, grabbed a bottle of anti-depressants, and left the apartment to go live with Nancy’s parents, a pair of butter knives.