Ok, so I’m sitting there, minding my own business watching Dance Moms on TV. Just a regular old Friday morning in the Summer. I look over to the right, into the office, and notice a spider on the floor. “Oh my,” sez I. “There’s a spider on my floor, I like spiders from a distance, but that one’s proximity is uncomfortably near.” I approached the spider, with the intention of investigating it’s species, so as to determine if it was one I wanted to shoo outside, or if it required sudden dispatchment with a flat object
Upon closer examination, it was determined that it was brown, hairy, and in possession of many dark and sinister eyes staring at me with a malevolent gleam.
It also appeared to (quite possibly) have uncomfortably (to me) large fangs (that might be) dripping with (I was sure) noxious poisons. Bravery was necessary, as I was the adult in the household and the safety of all those in my care was, indeed, my responsibility. A weapon was acquired forthwith and with haste. It was the best thing I could find, having used it for similar deed of bravery in the past. I was certain it would achieve the task with great efficacy. It was one of Himself’s Woodworking Journal magazines, as there was no shoe within reach.
For some reason, I had inexplicably picked up all the shoes and put them where they belonged earlier in the day. I have no idea why.
Anyway, the foul beast that was polluting my territory with it’s unwelcome presence was approached with trepidation. It also seemed to grow larger with each excuse I tried to make for leaving it alone.
“Leave it alone, for it eats unwanted insects”
“That spider never did anything to you, why would you squash it so rudely?”
“But it’s rendering unusable the entire office”
So I approached it, sure and steady of hand and firm in resolve.
*SMACK* with the magazine.
And the spider curled up, dead, as thousands…nay…MILLIONS of baby spiders exploded off of it, blowing and skittering every direction, covering the floor of the office.
The rest is best left to the imagination.