“I kan no longer bewiths you, Yon,” Gisele breathed heavily into the cold spaces of their bedroom.

“Whatever do you mean, dear?” John asked, taking off his reading glasses and slipping a bookmark into his battered copy of The Brothers Karamazov.

“Yous are not the mahn I marry,” she said, trying to muster up some tears but just making her voice hoarse.

John got out of bed, and stood beside it in his boxer shorts and wifebeater. “Ah, I see,” he said, “You only wanted to be with me when I was a retard, yes? Easy to push around, dominate?”

“You words hurt Gisele,” she said, pouting.

“Stop trying to cry and just talk to me.”

“Yon,” she began

“And there’s no one else around, so drop the immigrant act.”

“Fine, John. This what you what, you giant asshole.”

“Ah,” he said cruelly, “There she is, there’s the viper I married.”

“Suck my cunt,” she snarled.

“Maybe wash it more than once a month and just might.” His laugh was deep and rich.

“I kept getting thrush because of your filthy tard dick!”

“Are you sure that was me?” he asked, raising his voice like an ax. “There have been so many others,” to bringing it down.

She hissed, hissed like a fucking cat, and sprang from the bed. “You think I want you to fuck you when you have a throbbing lump on the back of your head? All veined like that like that and hot?”

“That lump was squeezing off the blood supply to my brain; it’s what kept us together so long.”

She came over the bed at him, her trashy fake fingernails flashing, going for his eyes.

“No thank you,” he said, straight-arming her back onto the bed. She screamed, red-faced, flush-chested; screamed like a feral animal chewing off its foot to escape a trap.

John calmly dressed while she thrashed, ripping at her clothes and hair.

“Are you done yet?” John asked as he slipped into his shoes.

“Fuck you!”

“I’m going to go stay in a hotel,” he said. “You can keep the house. Smells like those disgusting beans you always make anyway.”

“I should have torn that damned Lump off,” she said quietly. “It talked in your sleep, you know. Saying the most terrible things.”

“It is me now and I am it,” John said, shrugged. They glared at each other for a moment and then he left the room.