Susan couldn't help the thought that her husband was cheating on her. David had called her earlier that evening, exclaiming that there was a sudden meeting at the usual restaurant with the Board. That was four hours ago according to Susan's watch; it was now 11:30. Since this wasn't David's first "sudden board meeting," but more like his 15th, like a volcano Susan exploded, "How could I be such a fool? How could I let that son-of-a-bitch do this to me?"
She loaded the .38 snub nose that David had gotten her for Christmas, with hollow points. If she had to shoot the bastard, she wanted to make sure that that bastard was dead.
It wasn't a very long drive downtown. Despite the rain, the traffic was light. The name of the steakhouse was, "Raging Bull." Susan was too incensed to spot the irony, and consequently unable to recognize the apparent omen therein. In the movie, DeNiro, the protagonist, ends up ruined by the inability to express his own feelings. The seeming betrayal that Susan had been enduring had been going on for quite some time, and now she elected a .38 Special to speak for her. Compulsions such as this don't work out in cinema, nor do they work out often in real life; but, in that moment, Susan had little forethought if any.
As she drove around to the back of the restaurant, she saw David's truck; a black Albany Cavalcade. The SUV was more or less a symbol of the wealth the two of them had amassed, rivaled only by the size of their mutual social circle.
Susan knew this was a one-way ticket; she would never get away with it. Her heart started to beat rapidly and her palms became sweaty as she parked. She impulsively checked for the gun in her right rain coat pocket. Susan walked slowly to the back entrance, about 50 feet away. Despite the rain, any reason to hurry seemed to have disappeared. There was a red door by two dumpsters with a spotlight shining down. That was the kitchen entrance. She could hear the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, when suddenly the door popped open. It was an employee; he was a waiter. He was holding a bag of trash. Susan smiled coyly. The waiter asked, "Can I help you ma'am?"
"No, thanks," Susan said, looking like a drowned rat on the verge of panic, "It's my husband's birthday, I want to surprise him...th-th-thanks!"
Noticing the peculiarities of the circumstance, the waiter replied, "Are you okay?" To which he received no answer. Susan had already made her way past the manager's office and the freezers.
What was once anger, became sadness. Susan was holding back tears as she trotted through the kitchen, careful not to slip. She paid the looks she was getting from the kitchen staff no mind.
She was starting to hear the restaurant now so she knew she was close. She passed the final service station, walked into the restaurant, and stopped. Laughter and the clinking and clanking of silverware filled the air. Susan was terrified at what she might find, dripping water on the floor, she mustered the will to look up. He was the first man she saw. David saw her too. His eyes were wide and he was as still as could be, like a deer in the headlights. Susan broke eye contact with David, looking just to his left. It was Susan's younger sister, Tiffany. There was no vision for Susan, nor was there choice, seemingly on autopilot, the tears stopped falling and she walked confidently to the half circle booth underneath the stained glass cow. David tried to stand up as she approached; Susan reached in her pocket, and sternly said, "sit down."
Tiffany, looking more smug than concerned, asked, "Susan, what are you doing here?"
"The game's up. How long have you two been fucking?" Susan asked, apathetically.
When Tiffany tried to respond, Susan screamed, "shut up!" The entire restaurant went silent. As every head in the restaurant turned as if on a swivel, David said, "Sweetheart, Honey, it's not what it looks..."
Susan reached in her pocket and shot through the jacket into David's chest before he could finish his sentence. Susan's ears were ringing, so she couldn't hear any of the screams; but, she could see the look of terror on Tiffany's face while she desperately tried to stand. In an instant, Susan said to Tiffany, "The two of you can finish your steaks in hell." Just then, Susan withdrew the gun from her smoking raincoat pocket, and shot Tiffany four times. The fourth bullet struck Tiffany's neck. What once was a stained glass cow, became a bloody mural. Oh, the irony, still. In a trance, and wasting no time, Susan's final thoughts were, "that leaves one for me." With a face that would suggest that she had already died, she put the gun in her mouth face up, and pulled the trigger.