'God Barry' by Barry Machin
As Barry drew the sword from his pathetic wife's now lifeless corpse, laughing as he wiped the blood on the terrible pink curtains he had had to put up with in his bedroom (and it was his bedroom, he had paid for the house with his money) for all these years, he realised: I am a God.
Barry went downstairs and opened a beer. If he wanted to drink during the day, he could now. There was no-one to stop him. He could go to the football now, every Saturday – home and away. Finally get that moustache he always wanted. Everything was coming up Barry.
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