To hell with this, I'm shifting back before somebody stands on me- WHOAAA!" Rebecca's hand slid like an advancing pink wall across the coffee table, scooping him up and sweeping him into a small (even for his size) plastic cube. The lid snapped shit on top, sealing him in the box.
What the hell Becca?
"That's enough training for now. We've got to get you to the shoot," she boomed.
No, I need to change back now! He visualised his human form, willing it to alter his body to fit... Nothing happened. It's the box, he thought in dismay. If I transformed now I'd be crushed, my powers must be protecting me. He pressed his front two legs against the plastic wall, searching for a gap. There was nothing. The prison lurched suddenly, tumbling him off the walls and floor. When he picked himself up, he wasn't even sure which surface was the lid anymore. Looks like I'm committed, he sighed as she slipped him inside her purse.
He traveled in darkness for what felt like hours, clicking his mandibles nervously with each bump and knock. As light flooded back in, he stared around at the world around him.
Hot damn. I wish I had ten eyes, Shawn drooled (or at least leaked venom). Everywhere he looked - which, with 360 degree vision, happened to be everywhere at once - there were bikini clad beauties. He was in an interior film set. There was a painted, blue sky backdrop, wind machines, and golden sand spread across the floor to emulate a beach. Bronzed, toned teenage bodies skipped hither and thither beneath the light rigging, as a team of make-up artists touched up their make-up, fluffed their hair, sprayed fake tan on their butts, and sellotaped the strapless bikini tops to their breasts. Shawn was in heaven.
"Having fun in there?" Rebecca chuckled, as the Shawn-spider scuttled back and forth in its box, ogling each actress as they passed by. "Ah, here comes your handler now."
Shawn's excitement dwindled as his box was exchanged into the hands of a middle-aged woman in khaki. He was raised up to eyeline and peered at by a weatherbeaten, sunburnt face. "Cor, she's a real beaut. Look at the markings." Australian. Naturally.
"She's one of a kind alright," Rebecca replied. "Take good care of her."
"Don't you worry about her, little miss. If there's one creature you don't wanna piss off, it's a latrodectus. By the sounds of things it's only gonna be a couple of shots, so you should have her back by tomorrow."
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author