I had a 2 day bout with a spider. Last night, I'm on the computer and I see a spider on the wall. I grab a napkin and try to squeeze it between the napkin, because I didn't want to splat him on my wall. "cock and balls, son of a bitch!!!!" He slipped through the napkin and onto the floor. I thought he would never be seen again.
Monday 0100 hours: I'm on the computer and I see that damn spider. "Back for round 2, are we?" I say "Fuck it. No more punk shit. I'm gonna splatter your ass on this damn wall like a beast." I go to crush him and this fucker slips away from me. Bastard must've taken evasive maneuvering lessons from Muhammad Ali. I get pissed and expect to never see him again.
Monday 0110 hours: I'm on the computer and her comes Mr. Fight Night himself, creeping back out for round 3. "Who the fuck are you taunting? This ain't your fucking house, bitch!" I grab the napkin and smash his punk ass on the wall. It was like George Foreman on a grape. Ali didn't teach you enough shit. You may float like a butterfly, but I hit like a Mack truck, muthafucka. I fold the napkin and notice there is no splatter on the wall. I feel like a god. The invisible forces of nature confirm my feeling.
Time to celebrate by eating a pizza and putting of the last half of my essay, like I've been doing all weekend. I shall eat hearty, because tonight, that spider dines in hell.
True sotry.