Unfinished Wimphony
This isn’t the first strip I’ve done about my Adventures Arachnid, and probably won’t be the last. Don’t let the fact that in both of these cases the spiders depicted are so small though; all my entanglements with their larger brethren have simply proven too harrowing to recount. Although I have occasionally recounted them nonetheless.
The biggest problem with having acute arachnophobia is that it is essentially like having giant man-eating tigers jump out at you no matter where you may be. Except you don’t get to feel the fairly immediate sense of validation when your gut-wrenching scream is ultimately justified by a tiger-mauling. Unlike all those people who do get mauled by giant tigers at their desks. Those lucky buggers.
Basically what I’m saying is I wouldn’t judge you if you didn’t manage to get all your work done if there happened to be an imposing mass of fur and teeth with hungry eyes sat between you and your computer. Just sayin’.
Another major problem with arachnophobia is the sheer amount of public indecency incidents it so often leads to. But that probably goes without saying.
>burn tablet
> use punchline award on spider
You slam the hefty award down on the intuos, narrowly missing the spider, who skitters to the far edge of the tablet's drawing area. The tablet is now broken clean in two by the brunt of your attack, and the spider is resultantly catapulted at alarming speed toward your face.
What do you want to do?
> swing award at spider
Your award meets the spider with an astounding "crack," sending the arachnid flying through the air. It's going! It's going! It's outta here!
The judges award you with the Trophy-Bat Trophy. It is a trophy adorned with a tiny sportsman swinging an even tinier trophy. The sight of the normal-sized judge holding this recurring man/trophy fustercluck as he attempts to present it to you gives you a mild headache.
> examine trophy closely
You notice that the tiny trophy held by the tiny man has itself another tiny tiny-trophy-wielding man at the top, which in turn has its own tiny man with his own tiny trophy, and on and on ad infinitum. Upon even closer examination you are able to make out the features of one of the miniscule men, and with a vague sense of dread you realize that his visage is, unmistakably, your very own. You are just barely able to bring yourself to look down, and your fear is confirmed; you are yourself standing atop a gold-plated plinth, the structure descending down into darkness. In the fog you think you can just discern the silhouette of gargantuan fingers, barely visible, as clouds against pitch-black sky on a moonless night. But then, perhaps it is just in your head.
Perhaps it is all just in your head.
But the darkness goes on forever.
> drop trophy
The world around you begins to pitch and yaw as the trophy tumbles from your grasp, and even with your feet stuck firmly to the ground you can feel yourself falling, falling, falling. With every passing moment your velocity increases, and what little that remains visible of the darkness outside seems to bleed into crimson; distant whispers of stars becoming now only tall red scars through the smoke.
The trophy hits the floor, and shatters with a sigh, all the life and energy once held within lost in less than an instant. Everything fades beyond darkness; there is no room even for darkness here. There is no longer any "here."
There is only void.
You have brought on the heat death of the universe, and all is ended.
You got 60 points.
> new game