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When Katie screamed her little lungs out, after opening the front door to retrieve a chair, I figured an axe murderer rapist had attacked her. But oh no, far far worse than that. We had a killer spider waiting on our front porch to kill us all and take over our house, set up an army of other 18 eyed freaking scary tarantulas.
We immediately locked the door (incase tarantulas are locksmiths) and I stood on the kitchen table (just incase) and we all jumped up and down screaming for a solid 10 minutes.
Ashley risked life and limb to poke her hand around the door to take a photo. Dangerous photography, living on the edge.
We had just started planning how we could stay very comfortably inside the house forever and would have enough produce to last us through the winter (as long as piña boy still came over to visit with his weekly gift of two pinapples-although granted he would have to cut them up into managable sized chunks to fit through the letter box). Then, suddenly we realised terrible fate was upon us, that we had let the front gate unlocked-our hightech security system which stops murderers and rapists in. Thus anyone could walk into our house whilst we slept.
I personally was infavour of risking rape and murder to avoid going outside to lock the gate but apparently i was alone in this thought. we tried a seance closing our eyes, holding hands and imagining the tarantula would walk home and kill itself. This didnt happen. Eventually we conculded the only rational thing to do, as grown up sensible adults was to scream for help.
After shouting JERPIES (ha piña boys name rhymes with Herpies) our call was answered and who better than Nerys extremely hot and half naked brother who happened to be doing his weekly 10 pushups outside our house at the time.
So, in he rode on his white horse to our front porch. A white horse being his rabbid dog, Sassy. By this time we´re all squeezed around the kitchen window to get a better look at Mister Tarantula and the six pack of Honduran meat that was about to rescue us.
The outcome of the whole event was that the tarantula was murdered, the whole community came to watch and there are now three girls with sore throats from screaming too much. Ashley got a good photo of hot boy, and we all went home happy! [apart from the tarantula]. Which we sacraficed in a warning to other hairy beasts!
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