Sidewinder street

There is something wrong with John and Sally. But what?


1. John and Sally

On sidewinder street there lays a simple house. It isn’t at the end of the street. It isn’t slap bang in the middle. It is an unremarkable sixth from last on the left hand side. Like the other houses it gets it mail. It is owned by two people, unremarkably enough a man and a woman. Two people who have been married an unremarkable five years in total. And if John wasn't infertile, they would have a litter of unremarkable children.

John sits. His wife Sally looks at him. Even his short back and sides come over hair cut pisses her off.

"Coffee?" She asks.

"Three sugars please."

She looks at him and thinks. He wouldn’t know the difference between sugar and ground glass. He looks at her and thinks she wouldn’t know the difference between her vitamins and rat poison.

They sit on opposite sides of the table. Not much happens. Nothing ever does. Sometimes there is a funny comic strip that gets an amused snort from John. But other than that. Nothing. Just the sounds of clocks ticking away. Of two out of sync hearts beating. And of two passionless bodies slowly expiring.

Is it unremarkable that Sally is having an affair? I think so. Considering that affairs are so clichéd at the moment i think so. Considering that over half the world cheats. In that sense she is unremarkable.

And i guess you could say the same about the latent homosexual desires in John which will manifest itself as serial killing in the next three years. Because let's face it, all serial killers at the core are sexually frustrated people with issues involving masculinity.

"I think i might kill the mail man today." John says lazily.

Sally looks up. "Pardon? I don’t think i quite caught that."

"I said i might swill my mouth out after breakfast." John lied.

Oh my. This is slowly going out the realm of unremarkable to mildly interesting.

"Hey Sally."


"You shagging the mail man aren’t you?"

She looks shocked. She gets up. "No, how could you even think-"

"You didn't notice the camera i had put up in the room did you."


"On top of the wardrobe. In perfect line with the bed. Caught you straddling the mail man. He went postal on you at least thirteen times. Im happy for you, he is well endowed. His dick will make a nice tea cosy when im done with it." "Tea cosy?"

"Did i forget to tell you? Over the last year i have had a few things happen to me. I guess you could say it's some kind of insanity thing. Basically, i woke up next to one day and realised, i wanted to know what your insides looked like. But that would be too quick. You have been cheating for a long time." His eyes are bulging. He looks like he is about to burst. Sally grabs a kitchen knife.

"You are not going to kill me."

"No, im not. The mail man is."


"Remember that engineering course. I started the night classes, you took the time to do you mail man, and the milk man, and the next door neighbour." She glared at him. "Remember when i said, i learned today how to make a switch, and you smiled and nodded. I said i learnt how to make a joint. You smiled. Well i have been working on something. Something amazing."

"What." She just realised there were three heart beats in this house.

Mildly interesting just became balls to the wall excitement.

"Well. The mail man himself is married. And what would you know he is a father. Something i will never be." He looked down at his crotch and mockingly shook his fist. "Damn you penis." He looked back up, an insane grin on his face.

"Coe any closure and ill cut him off."

"Open the closet door Sally."

"You know i can't do that, it's been locked and we lost the key ages ago."

"No. I just hid the key and you never thought to look." He threw the keys to her. "Open it up."

"What is in there?"

"Just open it up Sally. Or i might go postal."

She did as she was told. She put the key in. Her breathing was uneven. It was shallow and it was panicked. And seemed to be impossible fast. As she opened the door she realised she was sharing air with a  psychopath in place of her husband. That he was truly losing it.

"My god." She uttered. It was all she could manage as she way an ten year old girl, still in her school uniform, sat in a chair. The chair was loaded with a spring and coils. She had a clamp around her neck and was gagged. Other than that she was unharmed.

"You see. Im giving him a choice. His whore, who he will have to shoot. Or his daughter, who he will have to watch die. And how you ask? Simple. That chair is loaded to snap like a rat trap, her legs bought over her head. Her arms dislocated and her skull popped off its little neck." He began to laugh madly.

"He isn’t supposed to come today. That's the thing. He won't be here. This is pointless."

"I told him yesterday i would be at golf with the boss by seven. It's now eight. He will be around."

"How did you do this?"

"She goes to school early on Wednesdays to do arts and crafts. By the way that little tiger on the counter. She made that. She is very talented. It would be a shame if. Well, i don’t need to tell you."

And as though on queue the mail man came in. He looked round. He saw his daughter. The mad man. His lover.

"Hey Monty."

"What the hell is this?"

"Simple. Im here to give you a choice. Kill my wife. Or your daughter."

"My daughter."

"Yes, your daughter. I have it all ready. She will die."

Sally looked at him and asked. "What are you doing here?"

"i was passing by and heard the commotion."

"No. You thought you would swagger in here and have my wife for your animalistic desires."

"I have never had-"

"Shut up." John shouted. "You have five seconds to choose or i kill the girl."

"John stop this." Monty pleaded.


"Honey please, i haven’t done anything."


"Listen to her, i haven’t done anything. Just calm down."

"" He pulled the switched he had put on the table. The switch that was meant to send a wire to pull and snap the girl in two. Nothing happened. As he kept pulling it. Tears streaming down his eyes he looked around and tried desperately to kill. Monty tackled him.

When the police came they would say that John was bat crap crazy. The switch. That wasn't connected to anything. And his hostage? A doll on a chair. Balls to the wall just became unremarkable again. Soon it was just downright boring. A year on, sidewinder street was terminal.  

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