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Woman: Fame Girls Ella</span>
Spider: Creative Commons: Robert van Mossevelde
"You know," began Kareen for perhaps the hundredth time that month. "Just everyone has a new fur coat."
"Except you," finished Harold. The argument was getting stale.
"Now I don't need anything special but my old coat is getting so threadbare."
Her old coat, barely two years old still looked pretty much new. But like linoleum it had "uglied" out before it had worn out. Now, despite the fact the the current coat had been the height of fashion not all that long ago (well to Harold's perception anyway), she 'needed' a new one and he knew she'd nag him until she got one, too. Harold, who kept the books for the family because Kareen had trouble adding 2 and 2 and getting 4 with any reliability, knew full well that there was no way he could get her a new coat and definitely not a new fur coat. His job paid well, but he wasn't in the stratospheric salaries of upper management. Instead, he was comfortably stuck in middle management. With the new car and the new house, their finances were stretched to the limit.
"You have to get me a new coat," she began again.
Harold, who'd heard the argument for the coat (the only one she wanted was $4500) far too often, began to get angry. Rather than having the situation explode yet again, he reached for his own coat (threadbare in actual fact) and his coat.
"I'm going for a walk. I'll be back when I can talk about things without wanting to get angry enough to damage something."
He stomped from the house and proceeded to walk. It really didn't matter too much where he walked, of course. It was the walk he needed and not the destination. Despite it being winter, there was a strange and slightly chilly fog everywhere. It gave the streetlights and strangely surreal look. He smiled at the story he'd read years ago of the fog being a gateway between worlds. If you wandered off in the fog, you could end up in another universe entirely. That, of course, was immensely silly but it made a wonderful story.
He walked in the fog for perhaps 45 minutes until his anger at his wife's spendthrift ways finally cooled. Finding himself near a small shopping mall, he decided he'd get a coffee before walking home. As he walked along the line of shops, he realized he'd never heard of any one of these shops. He knew his neighbourhood quite well so one or maybe even two shops might change in the weeks between walks, but not every one of them. It was then he realized that the little strip mall wasn't the strip mall near his home. He wondered how far he'd walked in the fog but decided that it would be easy to ask and find out. Likely, if he didn't want to get lost even further, he had no choice but to ask.
He passed three or four of the shops before coming upon a shop that proclaimed "Fur Magic". Inside, he could see dozens of furs of all kinds and styles on racks and mannequins. Some impulse compelled him to open the door and enter the shop. Now, he didn't much care for fur. Despite his wife's desire for a new fur, he didn't think she looked all that good in fur. As he wandered the short aisles, he realized that that this shop had what, to his inexperienced eye, was exactly the same fur (both colour and style) as the one she wanted. And they only wanted $350 for it!!!
$4500 was one thing. That was way outside of reasonable limits, but $350 was possible. He hunted around for the owner but there was no one present. He hunted at the till (a strange old mechanical till at that) for a bell or a buzzer but couldn't find one. He was just about to give up when the door opened and a short white haired woman entered the shop.
"May I help you?" she asked pleasantly.
"The fur", he indicated the $350 fur. "Is it a real fur or a synthetic?"
"Absolutely top quality fur," came the calm reply.
"How can you afford to sell it so cheaply?" he wondered aloud.
"I have special sources in Europe that ship the furs to me. Fur isn't overly popular there so he can get them far cheaper there than I could here."
"That makes sense," he stated digging out his wallet.
Within a few minutes, he had purchased the coat and then realized that there was no way to get it home easily.
"Not a problem," the woman smiled. "I can have it delivered. It'll only be $25 extra."
Harold grinned and filled in the delivery form. The owner indicated she'd even be able to drop the coat off in an hour or so since it was on her way home. Harold thanked her and then asked the way back to the main road. He was sure he'd be able to find his way once he reached the main road again. This proved to be the case, and Harold arrived home only ten minutes before the owner arrived in an old model car to deliver the coat.
Kareen, when she unwrapped the coat, was ecstatic. She bubbled how she'd be the envy of her friends (and enemies). The woman, frowned, obviously bothered by the self-centred woman's attitude. Not once did she thank her husband for finding the coat or purchasing it. She shook her head and turned to leave.
"Not only spider females devour their mates," Harold heard her state quietly.
He helped her to her car and made sure that the car started. Given its age that wasn't a guarantee as far as Harold was concerned. The car, though, started with only a few fits and the owner turned in mid-street and headed back towards the main road. Harold returned to his wife.
"It's perfect," she stated as she pulled it from the packaging. "Just perfect. And you remembered my size, too. About time, too," she stated with a touch of scorn in her voice. Harold, like many men, was no good at sizes.
She wrapped herself in the fur and bragged how she was finally one up on "the bitch" (whoever that was). Without warning, Kareen stopped her preening in the coat and shrieked "My legs!!!" The coat had vanished leaving Kareen covered with soft silky pink fur from the neck to her legs. As Harold watched, each leg began to spilt and then split again. Within moments, the knees and ankles twisted and a new set of joints appeared near the hip. Her hips expanded into a furry globe and a second furry globe began growing from her tailbone. Only ten minutes after the owner had left, Harold realized the import of her comment about spiders. Kareen was now a woman only to her waist. Instead of legs, she was a huge furry tarantula.
"How could you do this to me!" she demanded. Harold, his eyes wide, had no answer whatever.
Spider: Creative Commons: Robert van Mossevelde
"You know," began Kareen for perhaps the hundredth time that month. "Just everyone has a new fur coat."
"Except you," finished Harold. The argument was getting stale.
"Now I don't need anything special but my old coat is getting so threadbare."
Her old coat, barely two years old still looked pretty much new. But like linoleum it had "uglied" out before it had worn out. Now, despite the fact the the current coat had been the height of fashion not all that long ago (well to Harold's perception anyway), she 'needed' a new one and he knew she'd nag him until she got one, too. Harold, who kept the books for the family because Kareen had trouble adding 2 and 2 and getting 4 with any reliability, knew full well that there was no way he could get her a new coat and definitely not a new fur coat. His job paid well, but he wasn't in the stratospheric salaries of upper management. Instead, he was comfortably stuck in middle management. With the new car and the new house, their finances were stretched to the limit.
"You have to get me a new coat," she began again.
Harold, who'd heard the argument for the coat (the only one she wanted was $4500) far too often, began to get angry. Rather than having the situation explode yet again, he reached for his own coat (threadbare in actual fact) and his coat.
"I'm going for a walk. I'll be back when I can talk about things without wanting to get angry enough to damage something."
He stomped from the house and proceeded to walk. It really didn't matter too much where he walked, of course. It was the walk he needed and not the destination. Despite it being winter, there was a strange and slightly chilly fog everywhere. It gave the streetlights and strangely surreal look. He smiled at the story he'd read years ago of the fog being a gateway between worlds. If you wandered off in the fog, you could end up in another universe entirely. That, of course, was immensely silly but it made a wonderful story.
He walked in the fog for perhaps 45 minutes until his anger at his wife's spendthrift ways finally cooled. Finding himself near a small shopping mall, he decided he'd get a coffee before walking home. As he walked along the line of shops, he realized he'd never heard of any one of these shops. He knew his neighbourhood quite well so one or maybe even two shops might change in the weeks between walks, but not every one of them. It was then he realized that the little strip mall wasn't the strip mall near his home. He wondered how far he'd walked in the fog but decided that it would be easy to ask and find out. Likely, if he didn't want to get lost even further, he had no choice but to ask.
He passed three or four of the shops before coming upon a shop that proclaimed "Fur Magic". Inside, he could see dozens of furs of all kinds and styles on racks and mannequins. Some impulse compelled him to open the door and enter the shop. Now, he didn't much care for fur. Despite his wife's desire for a new fur, he didn't think she looked all that good in fur. As he wandered the short aisles, he realized that that this shop had what, to his inexperienced eye, was exactly the same fur (both colour and style) as the one she wanted. And they only wanted $350 for it!!!
$4500 was one thing. That was way outside of reasonable limits, but $350 was possible. He hunted around for the owner but there was no one present. He hunted at the till (a strange old mechanical till at that) for a bell or a buzzer but couldn't find one. He was just about to give up when the door opened and a short white haired woman entered the shop.
"May I help you?" she asked pleasantly.
"The fur", he indicated the $350 fur. "Is it a real fur or a synthetic?"
"Absolutely top quality fur," came the calm reply.
"How can you afford to sell it so cheaply?" he wondered aloud.
"I have special sources in Europe that ship the furs to me. Fur isn't overly popular there so he can get them far cheaper there than I could here."
"That makes sense," he stated digging out his wallet.
Within a few minutes, he had purchased the coat and then realized that there was no way to get it home easily.
"Not a problem," the woman smiled. "I can have it delivered. It'll only be $25 extra."
Harold grinned and filled in the delivery form. The owner indicated she'd even be able to drop the coat off in an hour or so since it was on her way home. Harold thanked her and then asked the way back to the main road. He was sure he'd be able to find his way once he reached the main road again. This proved to be the case, and Harold arrived home only ten minutes before the owner arrived in an old model car to deliver the coat.
Kareen, when she unwrapped the coat, was ecstatic. She bubbled how she'd be the envy of her friends (and enemies). The woman, frowned, obviously bothered by the self-centred woman's attitude. Not once did she thank her husband for finding the coat or purchasing it. She shook her head and turned to leave.
"Not only spider females devour their mates," Harold heard her state quietly.
He helped her to her car and made sure that the car started. Given its age that wasn't a guarantee as far as Harold was concerned. The car, though, started with only a few fits and the owner turned in mid-street and headed back towards the main road. Harold returned to his wife.
"It's perfect," she stated as she pulled it from the packaging. "Just perfect. And you remembered my size, too. About time, too," she stated with a touch of scorn in her voice. Harold, like many men, was no good at sizes.
She wrapped herself in the fur and bragged how she was finally one up on "the bitch" (whoever that was). Without warning, Kareen stopped her preening in the coat and shrieked "My legs!!!" The coat had vanished leaving Kareen covered with soft silky pink fur from the neck to her legs. As Harold watched, each leg began to spilt and then split again. Within moments, the knees and ankles twisted and a new set of joints appeared near the hip. Her hips expanded into a furry globe and a second furry globe began growing from her tailbone. Only ten minutes after the owner had left, Harold realized the import of her comment about spiders. Kareen was now a woman only to her waist. Instead of legs, she was a huge furry tarantula.
"How could you do this to me!" she demanded. Harold, his eyes wide, had no answer whatever.
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