WinnieThePujols
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Share what you fear!
Personally, I cringe anytime I see a spider. Arachnaphobia is what I suffer from. Anytime I see one of these eight-legged punks, I freak out.
Today, while doing some massive cleaning of my room (by my standards, at least; [IE: vaccuming]), I came across this spider in my closet. He had constructed a web in a corner that I'm oblivious to my eye on most occassions; today, unfortunately, I made eye contact with this fellow. He didn't flinch. Despite me being hundreds of times his size, he stood his ground. I decided he had the upper-hand, so I left, for the time being, planning on returning when I was better-prepared.
I took the necessary precautions: gloved my tissue-holding hand, grabbed some RAID insect repellent, and added a flashlight, to help light the dark 'n' scary corner. I contemplated whether or not I should kill this Hell-sent demon. It was my life at risk, of course. I opted to go through with it anyway. I layed the flashlight on the ground. (Fortunately, the web was low to the ground, and it was actually lit quite well.) Next, I practiced my motions a few times. Being right-handed, I had to practice my spraying of the RAID with my left hand -- not an easy task. (My right hand was being saved for the actual squashing of the beast, of course, and I had to have it ready so that the transition from spray-to-squash was nearly instantaneous.)
I started the battle by releasing what seemed like a gallon of the posionus insect repellent. The bastard quickly fell to the ground, then proceeded to take solace in a piece of carpet that obstructed my view. I sprayed again. He wobbled out, noticably shaken. He curled his legs towards his body, shrinking him down to the size of a pea. (I assure you, he was at least twenty-two times that to begin with! Erm...OK, at least two! Uhm...alright, two times that, including leg span...but still!) I figured that was his last hurray, but for a moment, it appeared I was mistaken: despite being in shambles on his back, he wasn't going to give up. One of his legs shot up into the air, in a very resiliant-hero-pumps-hand-into-air-after-being-pummled-by-huge-load-of-rubble-esque way. Expecting the other seven legs to do the same, I gripped the can tightly...thankfully, just as quickly as it had shot up, the leg fell back down. A path to his heart was opened up, and I possessed the dagger. I swopped in with my cloth, picked him up and squeezed with all my might.
Guilt-stricken as I was, I flushed him down the toilet, hoping he'd make it to Spidey Heaven.
Who knew that killing a little measely spider could lead to such an unforgettable adventure!?
Personally, I cringe anytime I see a spider. Arachnaphobia is what I suffer from. Anytime I see one of these eight-legged punks, I freak out.
Today, while doing some massive cleaning of my room (by my standards, at least; [IE: vaccuming]), I came across this spider in my closet. He had constructed a web in a corner that I'm oblivious to my eye on most occassions; today, unfortunately, I made eye contact with this fellow. He didn't flinch. Despite me being hundreds of times his size, he stood his ground. I decided he had the upper-hand, so I left, for the time being, planning on returning when I was better-prepared.
I took the necessary precautions: gloved my tissue-holding hand, grabbed some RAID insect repellent, and added a flashlight, to help light the dark 'n' scary corner. I contemplated whether or not I should kill this Hell-sent demon. It was my life at risk, of course. I opted to go through with it anyway. I layed the flashlight on the ground. (Fortunately, the web was low to the ground, and it was actually lit quite well.) Next, I practiced my motions a few times. Being right-handed, I had to practice my spraying of the RAID with my left hand -- not an easy task. (My right hand was being saved for the actual squashing of the beast, of course, and I had to have it ready so that the transition from spray-to-squash was nearly instantaneous.)
I started the battle by releasing what seemed like a gallon of the posionus insect repellent. The bastard quickly fell to the ground, then proceeded to take solace in a piece of carpet that obstructed my view. I sprayed again. He wobbled out, noticably shaken. He curled his legs towards his body, shrinking him down to the size of a pea. (I assure you, he was at least twenty-two times that to begin with! Erm...OK, at least two! Uhm...alright, two times that, including leg span...but still!) I figured that was his last hurray, but for a moment, it appeared I was mistaken: despite being in shambles on his back, he wasn't going to give up. One of his legs shot up into the air, in a very resiliant-hero-pumps-hand-into-air-after-being-pummled-by-huge-load-of-rubble-esque way. Expecting the other seven legs to do the same, I gripped the can tightly...thankfully, just as quickly as it had shot up, the leg fell back down. A path to his heart was opened up, and I possessed the dagger. I swopped in with my cloth, picked him up and squeezed with all my might.
Guilt-stricken as I was, I flushed him down the toilet, hoping he'd make it to Spidey Heaven.
Who knew that killing a little measely spider could lead to such an unforgettable adventure!?