Web of Deceit

Eight leggers are revolting.

No, I don't mean that they are disgusting, even though they kinda are in a deliciously crunchy kind of way.

I mean that they are actually revolting.

They have decided that they no longer wish to live under the benevolent dictatorship that is my Kingdom.

It seems that the Bathroom Spider has been watching too much BBC America lately and found himself inspired by the two leggers in Scotland attempting to gain independence from the United Kingdom.

I have allowed the Bathroom Spider to exist in the bathroom under three conditions:
1. That he continue to creep out the male two legger whenever possible by staring him down while he bathes.
2. That he spin webs across the doorway while the two leggers sleep, causing them extreme panic in the morning when they walk through the web.
2. That he never crosses the threshold between the bathroom and the bedroom.

The former Bathroom Spider broke rule number three once and ended up paying the ultimate price for his insubordination. His trial and subsequent execution served as both an example to future generations and a tasty snack for Ivan.

I began to notice signs of unrest last week.....

First, I heard an inordinate amount of snickering coming from the bathroom. This did not particularly annoy me at first. I may be a tyrant, but I understand that even eight leggers occasionally need the companionship of their own kind. Quite frankly, the thought of a sleepy two legger freaking out because he inadvertently interrupted a spider frat party amuses me. However, the snickering continued for several nights and it became apparent that the Bathroom Spider had invited several hundred of his closest kin to take up residence. The fact that every time I entered the bathroom, the snickering immediately ceased and they all attempted to hide, displayed that they were definitely up to something that they wished to remain secret.

Fortunately, I had a spy thingy on the inside. Every night between the hours of 7:00pm and midnight, Ivan can be found sprawled upon the heated tiles of the bathroom floor. He spends most of that time sleeping, but he has also been known to nap, slumber and even snooze. He is such a fixture, that during those hours he is considered part of the decor and everyone forgets that he is there.

In order to find out what the eight leggers were up to, I assigned Ivan a mission. To call it an "intelligence gathering mission" would be a bit over-enthusiastic.(Ivan actually repels intelligence instead of gathering it) I simply told him that he was being promoted to Chief Orange Tabby in Charge of All Thingies Sneaky and Spy-Like. As my COTCATS&S, I ordered him to feign sleep and listen to what the eight leggers were doing. He was to report back to me by morning.

The following morning he abashedly reported that he had failed in his mission due to the sleep-inducing power of the heated floor. However, he was happy to report that he had a wonderful dream in which he chased a really fat bunny across a field of catnip while riding a unicorn made of tuna.

I decided that in this case, perhaps a more direct approach was called for.

This afternoon, while the two leggers were at work, I stalked into the bathroom in all my regal glory and informed the Bathroom Spider that I wished to speak with him. As he climbed down the shower curtain, I said in a low, intimidating voice: "I wish to speak to ALL the eight leggers present".

Slowly and nervously, eight leggers began appearing from under the sink, from behind the cabinet, from the folded towels, from inside the toilet paper roll, from the bathtub drain, from the curtains and even from under the toilet seat. Many carried small flags made from small bits of tissue connected to cotton swabs. The flags had slogans that read "Vive Liberte'!" and "Down With Tyrants" and ironically "Don't Tread On Me". There was even one that had a roughly drawn picture of a cat hanging from a tree.

"What's all this?" I asked the Bathroom Spider.

He replied:
"We, the eight legged denizens of your Kingdom, have decided that we have had enough of your tyranny. At best, you treat us as second class citizens. At worst, you treat us as a dietary supplement. We hereby declare that the bathroom belongs us. We have renamed it 'Arachnatopia' and hereby decree that cats are no longer welcome. Well, except for the big stinky tabby, he can come in at his usual time. He amuses us. But you other feline types are no longer welcome in our new society. Leave us in peace, and we shall part with no ill will. However, should you try to stop us, bear in mind that you are few, while we are many......"

I sat and pondered his words for a moment.

He grew uneasy with my silence and finally unable to bear it any longer, he asked, "Well? Do you have anything to say before we banish you?"

"As a matter of fact, I can only think of three words" I replied.

"IVAN! LUNCH TIME!"

Instantly, Ivan was among the eight leggers.

He stomped, chomped and whomped.

He slashed, bashed and smashed.

In a matter of minutes, the rebellion was put down.

The carnage was extensive. Legs and spider bits lay strewn about as if a bomb had gone off in a spider factory. Ivan sat in the corner with a sated smile on his face.

Needless to say that when the two leggers returned home, they were less than impressed with the killing field they discovered.

They do not appreciate the lengths I go to in order to keep their bathroom free of pests.

Finally, allow me to say that aside from a mild case of indigestion, no felines were harmed in the quelling of this rebellion