Today I found two fat spiders in my apartment. Two ugly, eight-legged
mini monsters, hushing from here to there, one in the bathroom and
one just outside the door to my bedroom. Normally I'm a super
life-affirming person, but I hate spiders to their death. I really
do. I find them fascinating, just like slimey snails, quick cockroaches and massive sea
monsters, but I loathe each one of them. Especially when they try to
live under my roof.
So, I had to put the lives of the two creatures to an end today. It has
happened before, and I've attacked and assaulted scarier intruders
before, but I'm not proud of it. I'm not a murderer. But in a
situation like that, when it's either them or me, then I'll put my
life prior to theirs. I caught the first one with the help of a
bathroom cleaning device and while I watched the corpse spiraling down the
toilet abyss I realized that I didn't like Spiderman, either.
Thinking about it, I always preferred Batman. Why, he would have
blocked the blue spongy plastic stick with his left arm, punched me
in the solar plexus with the right fist, kicked me in the kidney area
with his left knee, and finished me with an elbow uppercut.
That's a deadly combination, I would have suffered in awe. And that's why Batman will always be
cooler than Spiderman. Then I was attacked by the second one, but now
I was prepared. Not a chance.
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