I had to take out another spider last night. Popped a cap in his ass. This one was quite big - bigger than Martin Holmes for sure. For a moment I thought it was Jamie Duxberry, scuttling across the bedroom floor, but it turned out to be somebody new altogether. A new kid in town. I'm not sure what's become of Jamie Duxberry; he was last seen in the downstairs toilet. Nothing since. Strange, but he'll show up.
This one last night though... woah. I didn't catch a name. It was all over so quickly anyhow. He scuttled across the rug, down onto the carpet and then came to rest amongst a mélange of cables and wires by the plug socket. There was a brief stand-off where I jumped (out of my skin and) up onto the bed. In a panic I looked around the room for a glass or a cup, or any kind of receptacle with which I could capture it, but there was nothing. I needed to act fast; once they go too deep into the wires you'll never coax them out. At this point I saw the Right Guard on the bedside cabinet, grabbed it, jumped down from the bed and struck the spider in the face. At least one leg came free upon impact. I wasn't proud. I couldn't be sure that it was dead though, so I had to strike it several times. It was kinda like one of those scenes in a film where the murderer will keep bludgeoning the body - even though it's clearly dead - and a fine mist of blood is spraying all over their face.
When it was over I used the toilet roll method to dispose of the body. With luck the whole thing would have been seen by another spider and it'll serve as a warning.