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Broke Wife, Big City
The Zombie Apocalypse is worse than we thought
By Aprill Brandon
I don’t want to alarm anyone, but the fact there has been an influx of
news stories about people eating other people’s faces and cooking their
roommate’s large intestine with onions and a nice herb butter is the
least of our worries. It has come to my attention that this whole
looming zombie war has taken on a thoroughly horrifying new turn.
It all started last week when upon innocently entering the kitchen, I
was assaulted by what can only be described as a giant, icky, furry,
black, gross, evil, huge, nasty, hideous, monstrous, hairy, possibly
more dark brown than black, gigantic, dirty, sneaky, ugly, beastly
minion of Satan hellbent on the destruction of humanity. Or, in other
words, a big spider. And by assaulted, I mean he was on the kitchen
wall, moving three inches to the right and then two inches up and than
four inches back left before sitting in the same spot for five minutes
and starting the whole pattern over again.
But trust me, he was plotting his vicious assault on my face, which he could have initiated AT ANY POINT.
Naturally, I did what any idiot with a crappy computer and spotty Wifi
that they’re stealing from the guys across the street would do, which
was to throw on my spider-killin’ gear– my husband’s thickest boots and
his motorcycle helmet (which is another column entirely… SPOILER ALERT:
We don’t own a motorcycle), and oven mitts, one of which was clutching
a bottle of Febreze and the other a flip-flop– and prepare myself
mentally for a lengthy battle.
An hour later, I was still standing in the furthest corner of the
kitchen away from the arachnid-occupied zone, tracking the enemy’s
movements and trying to stifle my scaredy-girly screams every time it
moved more than six inches at a time so the neighbors would stop
calling the police (out of a genuine concern I might be getting
murdered, I’m sure).
Realizing how ridiculous this was (but probably not as much as I should
have), I began my attack, spraying it down with Febreze while emitting
a high-pitched squeal that set off every single dog in the neighborhood
to barking. Unfortunately, this failed to actually kill it (but did
make it smell amazing) and so in a Hail Mary tactic, I flung the
flip-flop at it, which knocked it off the wall and onto what I’m
assuming is the stairs in the kitchen that lead to the basement.
I say “assume” because I refused to actually double-check if it was
dead and consequently haven’t gone down to the basement since (despite
the fact the washer and dryer is down there… although this could
eventually become a problem considering I’m currently down to my last
pair of giant, old lady undies).
It should have ended there. But then three days later, lo and behold, I
encountered ANOTHER giant, icky, furry, black, gross, evil, huge,
nasty, hideous, monstrous, hairy, possibly more dark brown than black,
gigantic, dirty, sneaky, ugly, beastly minion of Satan.
IN.
THE.
SAME.
SPOT.
This time, I decided to change up my battle plan and try to kill it
with my Swiffer Sweeper (leaving a wide berth between me and it so the
chances of it jumping on my face and brutally devouring said face were
lessened). I nailed him on my first try but unfortunately, the idea
that we were both touching the same object made me immediately drop
said Swiffer onto the stairs below.
Having learned my lesson, however, I did timidly peer down the steps to
see if I could locate the spider’s mangled corpse but then a loose hair
from my head tickled my upper arm and I ran screaming out the house, a
cartoon cloud of dust left in my wake.
Now all of this could just be a coincidence or, if my worst nightmare
has come true, we have a nest of spiders somewhere in the house. It
could be…except…
TODAY there was ANOTHER giant, icky, furry, black, gross, evil, huge,
nasty, hideous, monstrous, hairy, possibly more dark brown than black,
gigantic, dirty, sneaky, ugly, beastly minion of Satan.
IN.
MY.
BEDROOM.
Which coincidentally is RIGHT BESIDE THE KITCHEN.
I hate to think this, let alone say it, but [glances nervously back and
forth] I think [lowers voice to frantic whisper] it’s all the same
SPIDER!
Think about it! They all looked exactly THE SAME! They were all hanging
out in the same relative AREA! I never found any of the actual dead
spider BODIES! And every three days, it would RE-APPEAR! (Like some
spider version of Jesus!)
So, while I don’t want to alarm anyone, I think we need to stop
focusing so much on what to do to prepare for an attack of human
zombies and instead start stockpiling and training for the spider
zombie apocalypse that is evidently already here. Cause, yeah, sure,
human zombies want to eat your still living flesh and suck your brains
out of your skull, but spider ZOMBIES!? They are wicked icky and gross
and move weird and are stupid and ugly and I hate them.
So, I think we can all agree which one is worse.
Alas, it may already be too late.
It may already be too late.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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