The Life and Times of Steve, pt. 2, later that evening

I wrapped the Hot Shot in a plastic bag as to protect my belongings on my way home. In the car I thought about all the fun times I had with Steve.

(open thought cloud)

I remember looking up, every morning and every evening to see if Steve was in his home. I remember wondering if one day Steve would be hanging from his delicate yet strong web making material when I opened my door to go to work. I remember the dream I had of Steve. I remember watching Steve climb up his web in pursuit of dinner.

(close thought cloud)

I knew what had to be done. I walked into my apartment, I set my bag down, and I hooked up my new computer. I was totally engrossed in the awesomeness that was my new computer and speakers and wireless mouse that I almost forgot about the task at hand: I must kill Steve.

With Hot Shot in hand I steped out of my door eying Steve. He no doubt saw the red can in my hand and probably in his spider mind shrunk with fear. I was standing to the side of my door when I held up the can and sprayed. I could tell Steve was in agony. He retreated into the depth of his spider web and I continued to spray. Then, I saw that he was a ball of spider death.

Another sigh of relief and I went into my apartment.

Little did I know that by the next afternoon Steve would be resurrected.