|Yep, just checked, he’s still there|
That spider is still sitting up there, sources close to the spider confirmed. For quite some time now he has been making you uncomfortable and nervous by sitting there all fat and menacing, and he will continue doing just the same until an opportunity arrives to strike you most scarily.
The spider said that he hates you. He hates your stupid face, your soul, your very existence. He hates your fingernails and ankles. All the way up there he sits detesting your lifestyle, your hobbies and passions, your choice of friends, your taste in art. Your goals and dreams disgust the spider. The hairs on all his eight fast legs find you utterly pathetic and can’t wait to touch your idiotic skin. He guffaws at the struggles in your life. The spider’s contempt for all that makes you you is stronger than even his web. He will find you.
“I will outwait you,” the spider said. “I will sit here and watch you quiver with fear, too squeamish to squash my gooey guts out. I will wait until you forget me and remember only fear, and I’ll tickle your earlobe with my fangs, your eyelid, your pubic hair. I will sting you in that one spot on your back that you can’t reach, in your scalp so you’ll have to shave your head to treat the sting. I would crawl all over you during the night if you slept–but you will not sleep, afraid that that I will crawl all over you, freaking out at the slightest perceived or imagined touch.”
“You can’t tell whether the spider is asleep or awake and smirking, but with you it’s obvious,” said arachnologist Naomi Bumzwel. “He’s still up there. The spider will not sleep or eat until he gets you. He won’t eat you, obviously; he will sting you out of sheer spite.”
At press time the spider is still sitting there, smirking.