So, if they are highly venomous, like to sneak up on people, can travel the seas, and give their victims death boners, how is it we're not living in silos right now while the Brazilian wandering spiders roam the surface? Well, it turns out that scientists have determined that these spiders don't always inject their venom when they bite humans. These imbeciles have concluded that we can thus relax, when even the tiniest bit of thought would actually conclude that we should panic immediately, as we have proof that the bastards have been holding back. Clearly, the Brazilian wandering spider has been biding its time, waiting to distribute adequate numbers of themselves around the world via banana shipments until they have enough to launch a massive simultaneous strike on humanity's command structure.
Mission Log, Operation: Suspicious Banana
Zeke: London. Washington, Tokyo. All gone.
Sarge: Keep it together, soldier. We've got a job to do, and these six ... eight? Whatever-legged SOBs are going to pay.
Biscuit: I don't know if they're really SOBs, Sarge. I think the bigger ones are actually female. They'd be daughters. I guess they'd be DOBs.
Sarge: Private Biscuit, what the hell is wrong with you?
-A klaxon sounds, echoing throughout the base-
Sarge: All right, everyone. Get dressed. We move in five.
-They get dressed. Everyone watches nervously as Private Biscuit puts his helmet on, without incident-
Zeke: Huh.
Biscuit: What?
Zeke: That seems odd. Am I wrong?
Frenchie: No, I thought that, too.
Biscuit: What's everyone staring at?
Sarge: It's nothing. Keep moving, people. These many-legged daughters of a bitch aren't getting past us today.
Biscuit: Oh no! My boot!
-Private Biscuit leaps into the air, dropping his boot, which is crawling with spiders-
Sarge: Shoot them!
-They shoot the spiders-
Biscuit: Holy crap! Thanks, guys.
Zeke: Huh. I guess that's ... OK.
Frenchie: It does feel like we are missing something.
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