Thwarting the Octo-Legged Assassin

This is Germany, not the tropical climes of South Jackson, where such vermin grow substantially more robust on a steady diet of warmth, humidity and tobacco spit.  That said, I’ve seen smaller cars over here, so when this thing jumped out of the shadows, with a ferocity not seen since the coke-fueled days of Robin Williams (i.e. back when he was still funny), it definitely commanded my attention.

Given the proximity of me to it at the time, combined with the ambient lighting, and the location I first spotted him, I swear that demon bastard was throwing a shadow across the floor the size of small sheepdog. It is only a VERY slight exaggeration to note that if it’s shadow had been much bigger than it was, it would have been affecting weather patterns as far away as Topeka Kansas.

Before I could unshat my britches, the skittering bugger had secured a safe haven beneath the narrow underbelly of a fancy wooden shoe cabinet sitting flush to the wall, which doubles as a stand for the antique 27 inch CRT TUBE television bequeathed to my precious euro-space by the devil herself (my mother-in-law).

Not being one to tempt fate by getting down on the floor and trying to get eyeball-to-eyeball with a Leviathan arachnid, and being otherwise unable to form any safer eyeball-based strategy to roust him, I decided to wait him out. The good thing about my situation was the relative isolation of the multi-legged mutant.

Like a well trained Special Ops sniper lying in wait on the side of some godforsaken Afghan rock pile, hoping against hope to get a clean head shot on the Taliban’s baker, I persevered.

As an aside, the fear of “trembling death” by venomous poison is a great pick-me-up, and helped overcome the fatigue of a long day as well as the lateness of the hour. I was starting to dread a night resembling Edgar Allen Poe’s, The Tell-Tale heart, where I would be forced to doze with one eye open, lest the lumbering bugger double back on me.

Because God shines his special favors on me, (because I am one of his most vocal reprobate children?), or maybe because the toxic intruder thought his escape route as secure as Mitt Romney’s history of tax returns, he decided to make his escape.

Springing into action, I quickly formed a tactical plan. I would deploy the latest version of hand held drone technology (Iphone4) and a cast-off rubber sandal. The Iphone would be used to document the slaughter (not entirely dissimilar to those military helicopter videos released by Bradley Manning to wikileaks) while the sandal did all the actual slaughtering.

I would have gone directly for the slaughter sans camera, but then we wouldn’t be having this discussion because everybody would laugh at me like they did when Jimmy Carter mentioned giant killer rabbits (or some shit).

It’s not like most of you afford me the gravitas I deserve in the first place. I needed the documentation or somebody would have just called me an idiot, a liar, a fraud or a fool. They might have even called me something bad. So there you have it. I will be augmenting this thread at least one more time now that the carcass had dried enough for me to approach it and photograph it without getting the heebie jeebies.

The dessicated carcass of the miscreant. Soon to be mounted on a pike and prominently displayed to ward off his peers.

Enjoy.

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3 thoughts on “Thwarting the Octo-Legged Assassin

  1. Tim, you could have let the poor bugger live! Just put the spider on a sheet of paper and out into the garden or out the window….

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