A Warning to Arachnia

Every morning, I wake up with another spider bite.  At least.  I live in a basement at the moment.  When I got here at the end of June, the spiders had made their home.  I issued an eviction notice to each spider, gave them twenty-four hours (I'm even meaner than in Fiddler on the Roof--at least the people in Anatevka get three days, but in my defense, the spiders have no Torah to pack, and no finale to sing), and then, the next day, kindly escorted those who chose not to leave outside on pieces of paper.  All homes (webs) were then razed by vacuum cleaner.  I have been very kind in my dealings with the natives.  We really do have a nice reservation system (outside), and those who live inside have been experiencing a fair amount of salutary neglect.

However, there has been a Charles De Gaulle amongst them, and they are now expressing dislike of my occupation of their home.  They have been crying, "Vive le resistance!" as they crawl into bed with me.  I only sleep on my left side.  Never my right.  It's just a trait that I have.  And so, they have opened war on the side the contacts them on the mattress.  I currently have eight spider bites on the left side of my body.

As such, let it be known that I am breaking the Rule of Law, and enforcing what was not previously enforced.  Any spider found in the basement will be killed by scissors and cut into small pieces.  Their body will then be left out medieval style (sans metal cage) as a warning to all other arachnids, until they are vacuumed up the following day.

If you have eight legs, fangs, venom, spin webs, and live in the basement with me, you have been duly warned.

Comments

Amy R said…
I would have gone to the murder stage much more quickly than you did.

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