You can imprison me but I'll find a way, I can break any set of chains or escape custody, I'll even play the medical card if I have to. I did not want to murder and execute an unjust genocide on spiders (again) and anything that resembles them, I protested, briefly- but I had to remove them from the garage via phase one of the grossly unfair and psychologically traumatizing punishment portion of all this, and I was told to use a broom, something - in which, I don't even know where a broom would be, but the Shop-Vac was right there, nestled quietly and just waiting to be deployed, it seemed like it would be a lot easier than the broom would have been, and to the joyless spiders, it was all the Grim Reaper, it was the apocalypse and I was the great deliverer and harbinger of a bottomless and black-dust void of extinguished light.
Bless your little spider souls, the heart of a mass-murderer of arachnids is easily bruised, I am sorry, but you gazed into the speakless abyss and it gazed unto you as well, may you find a candle in the darkness, a secret key to an unopened door in the wilderness.