The spider who threatened my head
as she trespassed across the wrong bed
Mis-measured the distance
of the flip-flop resistance
and now lies in state with the dead.
Based on a true I-wish-it-would’ve-ended-this-way story
The true fate of Shelob II is currently unknown. It is unclear whether she met her demise in the great Battle of Flip-Flop last Fall or simply went into hiding. Her body was never recovered.
Sirs Flip and Flop, after being knighted for their bravery, now stand guard nightly against the evils of the arachnid kind. They have made valiant strides against the enemy.
As for Holli, she goes on reasoning with herself.
Imagination: My, how the blankets do scratch. But, no, those are not blanket-scratches. They are the odious footsteps of tiny little spider legs! It is Shelob II, no doubt! She has come back for revenge. And it matters not if she be dead or alive for these distinctions mean nothing in the realm of spiders. Spiders are a dark, mysterious breed, never to be trusted. I shall die here with her fang marks upon my arm.
Sense of probability: But really what is the likelihood that one would crawl on me twice? Surely, the unthinkable cannot happen to the same person twice. That would just be wrong. Surely, I am safe.
Practicality: Sirs Flip and Flop, stand guard! And I will arm myself with peppermint oil.
Reality: I survived it once. I can do it again.
Wistfulness: But oh it would be so nice if I didn’t have to! If only I didn’t live in this dungeon inhabited by spiders. If I had a nice, high room looking out on green fields and rising mountains, a place where spiders were all banished, my life would be perfect.
Determination: I’m going to kill every spider I see! I’m going to vacuum every corner and search out every hiding spot until I’ve found them all. I won’t rest until every single one is dead.
Compassion: But do you really have to kill them? Maybe you could just take them outside…
Panic: What if one touches me???
Determination: Kill it!
Pride: Just call me Holli, Spider-bane.
Guilt: What have I done? I’m a monster.
Common sense: It’s just a spider.
Imagination: …whose ghost will haunt me until my dying day! Can there never be a satisfactory ending? I will never sleep in peace again.
Wishful thinking: I could get an apartment. I’m sure they never have spiders.