In a wee shed in a garden across fae Soaves cafe, there wis a lot ae noise. A fuck ton fir 6am so it wis. Something wis singing country western music.
“Cunt tree roads… take me hammmmme… Oh yer up, big man. See if ye faw intae a bed ae nettles, it’s hard tae ken whit wan stung ye like eh? That’s whit ma ex-wife telt me when she wis up the duff.”
Terry the spider had crawled out ontae his web tae find a fly called Jeff trapped in his web. Wisnae even hungry but that hing had tae wheesht.
“A sais if ye faw-“
“A heard ye. Shut the fuck up. Should you no be panicking like fuck cos am gonnae eat ye?”
“Naw am fine tae die. That’s why ave been singing awe morning tae wake ye up. And might as well pass on hings ave learned.”
Terry sighed. Another wan ae them daft flies. He coughed up some silk and prepared tae much the wee bastard.
Jeff burst oot laughing and shouted, “Now!”
Terry turned around tae see a bogging gardening glove jump aff the floor and squish him.
The glove freed the wee fly and destroyed the rest ae the web.
“Nae bother, wee man. Where tae next?”
“We’ve cleared oot the sheds on this street. How aboot a hoose?”
“Ye read ma mind.”
And so Jeff the wee fly and Brankie the glove upgraded tae hooses and had the time ae their lives wiping oot awe the spiders and the odd pensioner. Two heroes so they wir. Two heroes dishing oot justice where it wis needed the most.