My normal transition to wakefulness, which typically takes place over an extended period of time, was abrupt and heart-stopping this morning. I was showering in my usual drowsy state, and reached over to grab a bottle of shampoo. When I had the bottle about four inches from my face, the horrifying import of what was about to happen became apparent.
A black-cloaked emissary of the Spider Empire had secreted himself on the hidden side of the bottle and was ready to launch himself in my direction. Suppressing my instincts to shriek, flail wildly, and fling the shampoo into the next time zone, I performed a gymnastic maneuver worthy of Olympic approbation by simultaneously rotating my body and the shampoo bottle so that the latter was directly in line with the shower’s water nozzle, sending the eight-legged assassin flying against the back wall where he crumpled under the force of the jet spray and the impact of the ceramic surface.
I suspect the arachnid was a member of the Sons of Reinhardt, a terror organization dedicated to avenging the death of their former colleague. This organization appears to be operating openly; I have discovered some of their training videos on YouTube, here is an example.
Meanwhile, I charge these Sons of Reinhardt to pay heed to the one they jeeringly call Mad Stavros. Recall that he lives, while Reinhardt (and his latest acolyte) does not. There can be peace between the Spider Empire and the Human Coalition. May I remind you that there have been no attacks from our side, no stompings, no sprayings, no Raid.
Our position is clear, you may go about your business as you please. But stay out of the shower or you will be slain.
Stavros or Reinhardt? Reinhardt or Stavros?