Harold the Horrible Huntsman

Harold the Horrible Huntsman

Still a bit bleary-eyed, I trudged into the bathroom for a refreshing cold shower (electric water heaters cost money, yo.) Morning pee complete, I stood up and flushed the toilet. The water swirled high around the bowl. In an instant something very large and very hairy leapt from it’s hiding place just under the seat, scurrying across my naked thigh before hiding behind the rubbish bin.

When truly terrified the human body emits a sound somewhere between a scream and a gargle. It’s not attractive.

My housemate found me trembling outside my bathroom door.

“Good morning, how are you?”

“You know huntsman spiders?” I replied, she nodded. “Well, one just crawled on my leg and now it’s hiding.”

Together we devised a plan. Two cans of Raid at the ready we positioned ourselves around the tiny washroom.

“Three, two, one!” we yelled, unleashing the deadly poison. We both gargle-screamed as a dark object bounded from behind the bin, landing on the floor in front of me. Rather than killing the horribly large huntsman, the Raid gave it super-spider strength.

We decided to it’d be best to just give the spider the bathroom.

Or move.

Or burn the house down.

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