The Great Spider War of 2010

The war has begun.

It is no secret that spiders and I have a bit of a history.  But they just straight up made this shit personal.  They have snuck up on me before, but never like this.  This is something different.  Something new.  Never have I been mocked so outright, laughed at so terribly in my own face.

Let me try to explain…

I was sitting at home on Friday evening, chilling, like I usually do.  Munching on some pizza and sippin’ on a crisp Diet Shasta Cola, like a true gentleman would.  All of a sudden, I have to go pee.  So I get up and go to the bathroom.  I take the pants down all the way to the floor like a 5 year old, because nobody’s around to see me or anything and because it’s funny to do that sometimes.  I take a leak and damn it feels so refreshing to let it out like that.  After I’m done, I turn around to wash my hands because I’m not one of those sickos who doesn’t wash my hands.  As soon as I’m done with that, I turn again to check my sexy self out in the mirror when I see it.

I don’t know how long he had been there.  It could have been a few seconds, maybe hours.  Hours of observing me with terrible grin on its face, knowing that the time was near.  But not more than 2 inches away from my face, was a fucking spider just chilling on the goddamn collar of my shirt.

There was a single frozen second.  The kind that seems to stretch for an eternity, where it doesn’t seem possible for so many things to run through your mind, but they do.  Like a dream.  When the meaning of everything comes into stark focus.  The message was clear:

“You are not safe.  I could have killed you at any moment, but I wanted you to see me. I wanted you to truly know just how far we are willing to take this war this year.  You killed my father and my grandfather and left their mangled corpses in the open for us to see.  Our mothers and sisters wept, but now I am here, sitting on the collar of your shirt while you stand there with your pants around your ankles, helpless.  And this is only the beginning.”

In that same second, I saw my own eyes staring back at me through the mirror.  I saw them get wide and my face contort into a sick expression of fear and panic.  Then I let out a sound that I can only imagine sounded like a retarded deaf person being kicked in the balls.

“DZZZEH!”

A cold chill shot up my spine and my face when white.  I reeled my head back to get as far away as possible, but realized the futility of that maneuver when my shirt collar and spider moved along with me.  There was no escape.  My next reaction was to tear my shirt off, but as soon as I grabbed the first button, I realized that too much movement might make this asshole move.  I only had one choice.  I had to touch the spider with my bare hands.  If I hesitated, he could strike me with a death blow to my exposed neck.  I had to be quick.

I gathered my wits, pulled back my arm, and swiped.  The heavy blow from my human arm hit him like a sledgehammer.  He flew against the wall and bounced onto the floor, dazed.  He wiggled around on the ground for a second before becoming still.  The fear that I had felt only one second before was now transfered to him and I could see it in his eyes as he stared up at me weakly from the cold linoleum floor.

At that moment, he realized the truth:  That no matter how well he snuck up on me or how many times he could bite me, at the end of the day, I am a human being and I am a million times faster and stronger than a spider.  That his father and grandfather had died in vain.  That this isn’t like the movies where the underdog rebels defeat the powerful empire.  That it will be I who wins this war.

He looked up at me wearily and tried to run, but his body wouldn’t carry him.  He was already too weak.  Then he stopped and looked up again, just in time to see my foot flying down at him at an incredible velocity.  He didn’t even have time to have his life and regrets flash before his eyes before it was over.  I hovered over him for a second and brought my face close to his to watch the life drain from his limbs.  It may seem cruel, but the circumstances called for it.  If the rules that he followed brought him to this, then of what use were those rules? He brought this on himself, and you can’t stop what’s coming.

There is no doubt that his brethren assumed the worst when he didn’t return.  And while I hope they learn not to fuck with me, I cannot be sure.  This event jarred me more than anything I care to admit.  After it happened I retreated to my chair and brought my knees up to my chest and turned off all but a single lamp light.  I sat there for hours rocking back and forth, a cold chill running though my bones, eyes crazy, looking at the edges of light for another attack.  There are not rules or limits anymore.  This battle for my home and livelihood is to the death.  I can only pray that whatever God exists in the vastness of the universe is on my side, and in my most desperate hour, will lend a foot to curb-stomp these fuckers to hell once and for all.