What's cooking?

Tax time can be stressful for some...

Wentworth clutched his chest as he turned a curious shade of purple-green, like a healing bruise.

Liam irritably picked up the phone to call the ambulance. Much as he might want to some days, he couldn't just let the fat fart die right in front of him. Hanging up the phone, he glared at Wentworth, who had collapsed back into his chair, wheezing and gasping.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me. It's April, fool! It's tax season, you're our resident CPA, and you don't even take care of yourself! Damned fool!"

Liam stormed out of the office and glowered across the cubicles with their petty accountants. Liam hated them all at this moment. None of them had the skills to do what Wentworth did.

When the medics arrived, Liam impatiently pointed them to Wentworth's glass-walled office, the only other glass walled office aside from Liam's. There was beeping, murmuring,and the scratchy sound of Velcro releasing. Finally, Liam's impatience boiled over, and he stuck his head in the office.

"Well? Is he—? Will he be alright?"

One of the medics gave him a sour look. "He's had a major heart attack, jackass. I doubt 'alright' is going to be in his vocabulary for the next few months."

Liam stormed to his office ans slammed the door. He chewed his fingernails. No one but he and Wentworth knew the truth, that Liam wasn't really angry with his partner; he was scared. The Wentworth and Keenan Accounting Firm was in hock to the IRS to the tune of three hundred thousand dollars, give or take a grand. And Wentworth was the only chef Liam trusted to cook the books. It was april, tax season. And Wentworth was down for the count.

Liam groaned and felt his chest begin to tighten.

NOTES: ▶︎

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "April fool!"

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