their survival instincts get all goofed up, and instead of running away from you to some place of potential safety, they leap straight toward you and land on something vital, like your head or chest or something. Which is precisely what I was afraid was about to happen as I stood on that chair with my shoe in one hand and one of my friend's combat boots in the other.
Then I had a brilliant idea. Bug spray! Yeah! A frantic search turns up some kind of roach killer. Roach, spider... Well, it's got to have some kind of poison in it. Perhaps it will be enough to slow down our eight-legged nemesis. My friend passes me the spray, and I blast the spider with it.
And it goes bonkers! Legs waving, fangs out, it leaps off the wall!
I jump backward off the chair, screaming. My friend is screaming. Shoes are flying everywhere.
The spider parachutes down the wall and darts across the floor, under the entertainment stand.
Well, now what? We tiptoe over there. No sign of the spider. My friend hands me a broom. I poke the handle under the entertainment stand tentatively, trying to scare the spider out of hiding. Can't we have a truce? If the spider agrees not to come out ever, then we'll just forget this whole thing.
Then I see it! It creeps around the side of the entertainment stand. I squeal and leap back, flinging my shoe at the awful thing. I miss, and it scurries away over behind the guitar. I spray it with the roach spray. Boy, it hates that! But it doesn't seem to have the desired effect: killing it!
There it goes, running across the carpet. Now it's serious. I chase after it on my hands and knees. I lift up a shoe, and smash! Missed! Smash again! How did I miss it? It's the size of Texas for crying out loud!
Now it hides under one of the dining room chairs. That's it, spider. You are going down!
SMASH!
Woo-hoo! It's dead! And I mean, really dead. A gooey mess. Yuck! But I got it. Sleep in safety, citizens! The dread arachnid is no more! And I'm thinking I need a drink.
Learn more about this author, K L Arena.
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