I had a 1am adventure with a spider that I've deemed blog-worthy.
To put it shortly, I had to kill it with a baseball bat.
Reason #1 It was huge.
Reason #2 I didn't want anything less than three feet between me and it. Him. The son of Aragog.
I had just returned from a late-night shift at work and decided to stay up a few more minutes in order to read my scriptures. I was one verse along when something big and dark bungee jumping from the ceiling caught my eye. My heart lurched in a familiar, unpleasant way when I beheld one of the biggest arachnids I've ever seen.
He was clamoring around my bedroom door, probably preparing to make a web. His legs were so large I could hear them pattering against the wooden frame.
I immediately went for my first weapon of choice, a flip-flop. But I quickly realized that whether I wore it on my foot or my hand would require me to be within millimeters of the spider and something about the way he was moving suggested that wouldn't end well.
I needed distance.
My first choice would've been bug spray but this would've required me to leave the room and Odin knows if the spider would've still been there when I returned. No, I had to keep my eye on this one. If he got away there was a 0% chance of sleep for me.
So, keeping one eye on Aragog Jr, I reached for the aluminum bat I keep by my bed and readied myself for battle.
As I approached him he stopped his scampering abruptly and we eyed each other.
We moved at the same time. I made a whack at him but he darted up the wall with lightening speed. I managed to knock him down but as soon as he hit the carpet he started running toward me.
It continued like this for several minutes; I would make a swing then he would rush me. I had never dealt with such an aggressive spider before so I had to change my usual tactic of herding them out into the open to get a clear shot. Now I had to let him chase me far enough away from a wall so I could get a clear shot. But whenever I took a shot he would scuttle back to the corner where the wall and floor met. And when I got close enough to try and encourage him out of the corner he would rush me again and force me away, whimpering like Ron Weasley.
Our battle had moved into the living room, and I eventually had to fake him out. I disappeared around the corner long enough for him to wander out into the open. Once he had I snuck back to the entry way and struck a Gandalf pose with my bat poised vertically over his hairy head.
Resisting the urge to bellow, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" I slammed the bat down and Aragog Jr splattered everywhere.
I gave him a second whack for good measure, let loose a giddy laugh, then basked in my victory.
Moral of the story, children? Read your scriptures and keep a bat by your bed.