Spidery things.

I have never been what one would call 'neat'. Quite in fact, I don't think I've ever cleaned my room without being forced by my parents. I find that wading through a sea of clothes and, quite possibly, a few dens of mythical creatures, make my life exciting. (How else would I have conquered that dragon last week?) But the other day, I woke up, looked about the Sea of Crap, and frowned. I mean, when the dragons nesting in your room are becoming angry with the mess, perhaps it's a sign that you should tidy it up a bit.

So says the dragon that formerly lived amongst a pile of CD's and videogame controllers.

So, I finally decided, against my better judgement, to clean my room.
The magical things that were unearthed cannot be described in words. Remember the scene in The Hobbit where Tolkien describes Smaug's lair, and the mound of treasure he slept upon? Sort of like that, but with Holy Relics, too.
Nieriel and I always joke that, if in the fact that I ever tidied my room, that I would find not only the Ark of the Covenant, but also the Holy Grail and Jesus. Just chillin' in my room. Waiting to be found by someone brave enough to venture into the Sea of Crap. (I haven't been smited just yet, so bear with me for the time being.)
But, in the gloom of the deep, murky Sea, I came across not another dragon or sea serpent... but an arachnid of sorts.
Unlike my father, I don't have a distinct fear of spiders, but they still make me uneasy. (Probably because of reading Tolkien at such an early age...)
I was equipped with only a vacuum and a can of lemon Pledge. I chose the lemony freshness spray.
My enemy slumbered inside the shadows of my closet, watching me with its multiple eyes, just waiting patiently for me to move in for the kill.
I knelt down beside my eight-legged foe, and aimed the mustard-yellow Pledge bottle in its direction.
I pressed down the trigger. Maniacal laughter erupted from the creature that was now me. I grinned evilly as the tiny creature writhed underneath the force of the spray of lemony wood polish.
Pleased with my accomplishment, I stood and turned to leave, when I caught something, just for a moment, out of the corner of my eye.

A small, wax-coated spider, scuttling up the wall of my closet.

I sprinted across my room and grabbed my only other weapon: the Dyson vacuum.
With a final war-cry of "DIE, YOU SON OF A DOG." I aimed the hose at the waxy pest and sucked it into the barrel of dusty doom.

Immediately thereafter, however, an obnoxious and unyielding sense of guilt washed over me. That poor spider was probably guarding my room from the infestation of summer insects that would have most likely crawled out of Hell to kill me in my sleep! HOW COULD I?!
I mean, LOOK at this little guy:

HE'S ADORABLE!!
HOW COULD I END THE LIFE OF SUCH A HUGGABLE LITTLE CREATURE?

I'm going to go cry myself to sleep now.