I’m not sure I would want to be a spider.
Innocently plodding along, going about your day to day business of spiderness, and then
Some big ol’ bastard with a big old shoe, notices and then tried to exterminate you.
Like, chill out man! Just ask me to move, to murder me suggests that I’m less important than you!
Certainly, from your lofty perspective, I do little but hang on this web I’ve created. And since time began, I’ve waited and waited, to capture the fly that I’ve been anticipating.
And then you come along and you scream quite high pitched – a terrified man of a miniscule beast you whiny little bitch. Excuse me my vulgarity, my poor turn of phrase, but you’ve got to admit it’s been one of those days. I cannot believe that you’d have been sat in your chair, and a bigger-than-you creature catches you there, and raises a boot right up in the air and brings it down at such speed you’ve no time to be scared.
But alas, I’m a spider. An insidious beast. Perhaps I must accept my fate in my seat. Let’s not forget that the things that I do quite often are of humongous benefit to you. Or that I do little wrong, I don’t sting, spike, or bite, and that I’m probably more active at night when you’re sleeping upstairs in your bed. Please, continue to bash the boot in my head.
In my absence another will come, stay much longer. We’ll bring an army next time we’ll be endlessly stronger. And please don’t forget I’ve an uncle, or two, who, though smaller, a bigger and hairier than you! So killing me might give temporary bliss, but our parts in this great circle of life are much bigger than this.