Cookie Killer Strikes Again

Way back in the day when I first met, in an AOL chat room, the men who would become my writing partners, Jim baked some cookies and sent them to me. Since we’d never met in person, I asked him why I should believe those cookies were safe. He could be the AOL Cookie Killer, for all I knew. He agreed that he could be, but he was fully aware that cookie lust would override any reservations I had about his trustworthiness. Also, I got Tom to eat one first.

Jim’s sent many batches of cookies in the years since then. Once he sent Tim some, and as I recall, Tim made a tepid offer of them to Tom and me, and after we each took a cookie, he vanished with the box o’cookies and we didn’t see him or them again until the last crumb was gone. I can’t hold it against him–they were his cookies, after all, and they’re just that good.

This morning I was awakened by the thud of a Priority Mail box on my front steps and the subsequent hysterical alarums of two dogs who know they’ve missed their opportunity to warn me of the Dangerous Mail Carrier before the fact. The package was from Jim and contained:

And I can’t stop giggling because there are three bags and I know that not long after Tim sees this post, I’ll hear the key in the back door’s lock, and then there’ll be only two bags on the counter. And that’s just as it should be.

In my virtual mailbox, I got an e-mail from Timmy with what may be a story attached. I’d say this is a banner day for knowing my writing partners.