I want to bond with a duck-billed platypus. I would name him Obi Wan and keep him in little booties until he was properly trained to sting only intruders and sworn enemies.
I would take him on airplanes for emotional support and play the Trump Derangement Syndrome card if anyone tried to stop me.
It was like something out of a nightmare. Woke up last night to pee, looked in the mirror and ran my hand through my hair, when suddenly there appeared a glossy-black spider approximately the size of my thumbnail, scurrying down my hand.
I shrieked, slapped my hand against my leg and ripped off all my clothes, which are still in a pile just outside the bathroom door. I then spent the next half-hour obsessively brushing my hair to make sure there weren’t any more spiders in there. When I finally felt comfortable enough for clothes, I combed through my closet and drawers looking for something light-colored, but there wasn’t a goddamned thing to be found.
Murderous spider (black widow?) yet at large.