Some of you have probably heard the saga of Terry the Tarantula. If you haven’t, you can watch the video below…
Well, last night I met his cousin, Bubba. Dan had gone up to bed early and I stayed downstairs, hanging out with some of the nightowls on the squad. It was starting to get pretty late, so Lindsay and I decided to call it an evening and head to our respective bedrooms. The last thing she said before we parted was, “I really hope I don’t see any tarantulas on the way.” As is usually the case, I forgot to bring my headlamp with me, leaving myself to wander up to bed in the dark of the night. Using my hands as feelers, I made it to my tent, grabbed my toothbrush and headlamp, and went back down to use the bathroom. Satisfied with the state of my oral hygiene, I walked back up the stairs and froze in the doorway to our room. Bubba was on the floor right outside of my tent. When my light hit him, he froze also. The showdown was on.
Bubba broke right towards the wall. I got my light down in front of him and headed him off at the pass. Using all eight legs to his advantage, Bubba quickly made a U-turn and took off towards Dan’s tent. “Dan, wake up. DAN, WAKE UP! IT’S A TARANTULA!” I’m still not sure if Dan was more scared of the tarantula or me yelling at him to wake up. 
So Bubba gets about halfway between Dan and I and stops. Then he starts wandering around aimlessly in the midst of Dan’s stuff on the floor, taunting me to come in after him. Alright Bubba, I accept your challenge. I make my move, circling around Bubba and coming at him from what I think was behind (it’s really quite hard to tell though). Realizing that I had just called his bluff, Bubba made a break for the door, but he wasn’t getting away that easily. Again I headed him off, and Bubba froze.
I’m a little embarrassed that I had to ask this next question, because the answer is rather obvious. Nevertheless, I said, “Dan, what do I do?!” I may have asked a dumb question, but I didn’t need to wait for the answer to know what to do. This was a duel and Bubba needed to die. Taking Dan’s advice to use the nearby trash can, I grabbed it with both hands. Ensuring that I had a firm grip, I slowly raised my trash can guillotine over Bubba. With a quick motion I applied the death blow, and Bubba was defeated.
May this obituary for Bubba serve as a warning to the rest of his friends and family in the vicinity of the Shekina Bible School. Terry is dead. Bubba is dead. The trash can guillotine is ready and waiting. And though I may, from time to time, squeal a tad in the presence of spiders that are as large as softballs and hairy as my head, make no mistake – you’re going down just like Bubba did.
