The surprisingly graceful descent allowed the spider to touch down on the tabletop with all eight legs poised to travel.
To the shock of its tiny intended prey, the fearsome arachnid's landing took place at a spot almost halfway between the tiny scientist and the shipping carton.
He suddenly halted in his headlong race toward the security that had been represented by the shipping carton. While he still debated a new plan of action, the spider scurried toward him, having fastened it eight eyes on his bug-sized body.
Tiny Mr. Smith screamed at the shockingly swift advance by the horrid-looking creature. He raced in a diagonal lining, hoping to keep distance between them and also make his way back toward the all-important shipping carton.
Into this life-or-death struggle, Tommy arrived, more or less on schedule, humming cheerfully a tune that had been stuck in his head for the past several hours.
Closing the door behind him, the teenager walked toward the kitchen table, spying a small cardboard box in the exact location Mr. Smith had told him to expect it.
The breeze that followed Tommy's opening of the back door rushed across the surface of the table. With eight legs, the spider resisted the sudden surge of air that slammed into the shrunken man and sent him sprawling toward massive metal and glass towers in the center of the table.
When the sudden hurricane suddenly ceased with the closing of the back door, the battered little man saw his gigantic teenaged neighbor walking toward the table.
"Tommy!" Mr. Smith screamed. "It's me! On the table!"
Suddenly, Tommy stopped and looked down with a twisted sneer on his colossal features. "Gross! Freakin' spider!"
He found what he needed by turning and grabbing yesterday's newspaper from Mr. Smith's kitchen counter. He rolled the newspaper into a tube and wielded it into the air.
The impact as he slammed the newspaper down on the itty-bitty spider rocked the table. The unseen little scientist was knocked off his feet in the shadow of the salt shaker. Before he could get his legs back under him, Tommy scooped the package off the tabletop in one huge hand.
"No! Wait, please!" The shrunken scientist screamed. "Not yet."
He dashed away from the strange towers of glass and gleaming stainless steel, mindless that Tommy was still holding the newspaper in his other hand, having already demonstrated a lethal tendency to strike first and ask questions later...
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