When a spider enters your bathroom, how do you kill it?
Perhaps I should give some background.
Sometimes, particularly in the warmer months, when I get out of my shower, there are various creepy-crawleys waiting for me. The worst one was a cricket on the bathmat outside my shower - I stayed under the water for a good extra half-hour. This one today was more intimidating in a different sense. I was going through the post-shower routine (you know the drill: brush teeth, comb hair, put on clothes - not necessarily in that order) when, by the corner of my sink and the mirror, I saw a dark shape. It was roughly as big around as my thumb, not including the legs, which spread out to a fairly great distance. The fuzz covering its back was a dark auburn, with little streaks of what appeared red to me. It sat perfectly still, just waiting.
Now, I'm no animal murderer. No fan of wanton slaughter, me. But when a thing that disagrees with me on my most instinctual levels enters my domain, I must defend my territory.
At first, I merely sprang back and evaluated the situation. It was not aggressive - perhaps it was passive-aggressive - but looked like the kind of spider that screams or jumps or rips or some ghastly natural defense mechanism straight out of my deepest, darkest nightmares. So, like the Singing Sword of Prince Valiant, up came my paper towel roll, sitting near the sink with one lone paper towel hanging limply from it. I raised it and slammed it once - hard! - against the wall. The spider fell to the ground. I lept back and reviewed my situation. The thing was there on the floor, a little nervous now, scuttling a bit. Clearly, I needed to take action fast.
So, I tore open the cabinet beneath the sink quickly and drew the first thing that I found - a quarter-full spray bottle of Tilex. Without hesitation, I released my deadly spray. The thing would have screamed had it had a set of lungs capable of such feats. It scuttled faster, angrier, but hurt; I could almost hear the sizzle against its eyes and the roasting of that auburn fur. It lay in the corner, and I thought it dead.
But spiders are hardy, it seems. It began to slowly, painstakingly work its way up the wall again. Now came my trusty blade once more -snickersnack! - to my rescue. I smashed the foul beast again and again, knocking it first to the floor and then into pieces.
At the end of it all, I was the victor. I felt bold, animalistic - like any creature could have crawled through my window, and I, armed with my cost-efficient bathroom cleaner and nearly-empty paper tower roll, would knock it back with confidence.
So really, internet, how would you deal with the invading arachnid?