Dear Spiders,
Please consider this missive a formal cease-and-desist. As in, you can cease and desist in sending your jacked up friends and relatives to my house to torment me. If I need tormenting, I'll start really listening to the club jams my neighbor plays at excessive volume.
Oh, don't try to look so innocent. I know you're responsible for the nightmarish experience I had this weekend. You're just mad because -- and let's just make sure we're both on the same page here -- YOU violated the treaty, and I called you on it and declared the treaty void.
Which is why you sent THIS to my house:
Now, let's talk scale. This little interloper was FOUR INCHES LONG. That's two inches shy of half a foot, and it is also THREE inches longer than anything that the treaty would allow.
I'll give you this, Spiders. Your tactics -- though HIGHLY questionable -- are effective, for to describe my reaction as terrified revulsion would be the understatement of the year. Also, your little mercenary friend is clever and positioned himself above the bed, where I would be sure to have creepy crawly dreams for DAYS.
But listen, Spiders. Listen and hear me well: you can send every feathery legged, Lovecraftian monstrosity you want to my house. I WILL STILL WIN, Spiders. I WILL. Even if I have to squeal and terror and convince The Fella to kill your crawly buddies because I don't want to get close enough to touch them. IT DOES NOT MATTER SPIDERS I WILL TRIUMPH IN THE END.
Of course, if you were to beg for mercy and reconsider the treaty, I would be willing to re-open negotiations. Probably.
JUST KIDDING I WILL CRUSH YOU.
Most Sincerely,
Yellie
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