Nicholas DiBiase
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Poster: Nicholas DiBiase @ Tue Jun 22, 2010 5:53 pm
Chapter 3
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Sue woke up with a nasty pain in her left deltoid and a foul mood in her heart.
“Oh great,” she thought carelessly, “I’m probably having a heart attack or something.” She didn’t want to get out of bed, so she laid there until the last possible second that would avoid tardiness to her first meeting. Then, she laboriously raised herself and padded into the kitchen to make some coffee.
The black sludge from her French press tasted like ‘Raid’ and she wished she’d bought better coffee. What, she mused, is the point of having a fancy French press if you’re drinking Yuban out of the thing? Lucky, then, that the blueberry scone she had left over from yesterday was still edible when she took it out of the toaster over (which was never used except as a bread-box) and gave it an exploratory chomp. All was briefly right with the world until a spider the size of a Ritz cracker clambered over the top of the ‘Glamour’ she was reading. Sue emitted a shriek that could lobotomize a hippo and reflexively flung the magazine away from her, knocking the French press off the table and onto the kitchen tile, where it exploded into eight pieces and splattered its muddy contents across the room. The copy of ‘Glamour’ had been stopped in its flight by the French press, and now lay open on the table. The economy-sized spider scampered unseen down a table leg and then surreptitiously fled underneath the lip of the bottom cabinets.
Sue huffed forth an expletive and began manically scanning for the spider. Not only was she generally scared of arachnids and other crawlies, but she now had a vendetta against this one for further marring what had already been a pretty rough morning. The spider itself was now well-hidden in between her cabinets and the stove. Sue gave up after a few vengeful minutes and, with the jitters in no small amount, began to rush about in an effort to get dressed while she still had a chance to be on time. On her way out, she called her friend Phil, who was a professional bug exterminator, and asked him what should be done about the offending eight-legged stowaway.
“I don’t think you should spray just for one little old spider,” said Phil, “plus, he’s probably eating up other pests. How about just letting him be? He’ll probably stay away from you from now on.”
“Ugh, Phil, I swear! You’re a pal, but sometimes you’re friggin’ useless!” Phil wasn’t offended by this outburst and told her that if she really wanted to eliminate the visitor, she could buy some aerosol spray that’s designed to kill spiders.
“Be real careful with that stuff in your kitchen though,” he warned. “You don’t want any of it coming into contact with your food or anything. That stuff’s real nasty.”
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Nicholas DiBiase
@Hepnova
(34,475)
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