In which shee slays the Spyder

And lo, it came to pass in those days that the fair maiden, whose stories do fill the pages of this electronic journal, rose from her slumber on a fine morning of the last day of the week, known among the commoners as Satur-day. Her hair tossed asunder and still in pajamas, she surveyed her living-quarters and decided to deliver certain items to the kitchen and also to see whether there was prepared any wonderful elixir of life, that most glorious juice of the coffee-bean, available for her groggy consumption.
To the quarters she went, and she found that no such chocolate-colored goodness was prepared. So she continued on to the sink, where she discovered, to her complete horror, a Shelob-sized Spyder sitting quite contendly under the faucet.
Distressed, but with none to assist her, our heroine did the only sensible thing one can do without having consumed coffee early on a Saturday morning, and turned on the water. After many minutes, the lady observed that this Spyder must not breathe, for the flood of water failed to drown her advisary.
So she considered the weapon in her hand, an empty can of Starbucks Cinnamon Dulce Double Shot Espresso deposited by her fair friend the night before. And behold, she lifted the can and delivered a blow; then, finding that the beast was still moving, she smote it again. At last, the Spyder was felled, and the kingdom rejoiced.
The moral of the story is, in the absence of a useful man, coffee solves a multitude of problems.