Flashback: A moving truck. A young couple— Mark and Lisa —unpacking boxes labeled “KITCHEN” and “LIVING ROOM.” They smile at John Persons, who is watching from his porch. He gives a small, almost invisible nod.
That night. Mark and Lisa are in bed. Lisa whispers, “He’s weird, but harmless, right?” Mark shrugs. “Just a loner.” From their window, they see John Persons’s silhouette standing perfectly still in his backyard. Facing their house. Not moving for three hours. The Neighbors John Persons Comics
Mark approaches John Persons at the mailbox. Mark is holding a casserole dish covered in foil. “Hey, we’re new. Just wanted to say hi.” John Persons takes the casserole, looks inside (tuna noodle), hands it back. “No.” He walks inside. Mark stands there, confused. Flashback: A moving truck
Mark runs outside. Every other house on the cul-de-sac has a single can of corn on the porch. Gleaming. Untouched. John Persons stands on his own porch, hedge clippers in hand. He clips the air once. Snip. That night
The next morning: Lisa’s car has four flat tires. No punctures. Just… flat. On her windshield, a single playing card: the Ace of Spades. Mark calls the police. Officer replies, “John Persons? Yeah, we don’t go there. Read the neighborhood charter, sir.”