Friday, November 4, 2011

Attack of the Mutant Zombie Spider

I was getting into my car to grab some lunch a few weeks ago when I noticed it.  Under the rainguard on the driver's side window was the corpse of a huge spider.



You thought I was exaggerating, didn't you?  Admit it.  The sucker's genetically engineered to be effing scary.


I hate spiders.  A lot.  I can deal with mice and centipedes and the scuzzy hair that gets caught in drain traps, but I cannot do spiders.  I got bit as a kid and it got infected and I didn't have a fingerprint for years.  And once in college, a spider purposely fell off the ceiling into my bed and I had to sleep in The Squeeze's room for days.

If my life were a horror movie, spiders are the monsters out to get me in creative, gruesome says.

Needless to say, I hoped the one on the window would blow away.  And eventually, it did, just as I was arriving back at work with my tasty food.

As I walked past my car toward the office...

...The Mutant Zombie Spider attacked me!  It jumped out from the ledge of the trunk in a blatant attempt to simultaneously eat my face and lay eggs in my eyeball!  Fortunately, my Xena-like battlecry startled it back into its hiding place.  I ran into work and promptly spent the next half hour hyperventilating.

Because the backseats of my car fold down and open into the trunk, that spider could have been anywhere.  It could have been hiding under the visor, waiting to go for my eyes again.  It could have been lurking under the gas pedal, plotting its trek up my pants.  It might have been spinning a web in which it could have baby Mutant Zombie Spiders.

I very nearly took a cab home.

The Squeeze worked late that night; there was no white knight to save my day.  When I arrived home, I grabbed a good-size stick and cautiously popped the trunk.  Mutant Zombie Spider did not expect my ambush.

I flung it to the ground.  It scuttled into a pile of leaves, which I proceeded to beat with the stick and jump and stomp on, yelling all the while.

The neighbors are afraid of me.


(True: This is accurate.)

2 comments:

  1. I can picture you now, jumping up and down, beating the leaves with a stick, and screaming like Xena. Except I don't know what you look like, so I just imagine you as Allie's drawing of herself at Hyperbole and a Half.

    And this is why you should NEVER get a car with back seats that open to the trunk.

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  2. I do actually have a single hooked finger--how did you know?!

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