That when you are napping on the couch on a lazy Saturday during the Tour de France, you spy a movement out of the corner of your eye. But you have left your eyeglasses on the table so you move physically near the movement - and it looks like a bug of some sort. To see the creature more clearly, you open your eyes wide and move in even closer - now a mere seven inches away.
Then suddenly, and horrifically, the bug - a slithering, spitting spider - shoots venom into your eyes, nose and mouth while you fall off the couch to your elbows. Since you spend so much time on the couch you have some girth. The weight on your elbows breaks them and you gasp from the pain, sucking the venom deep into your torso.
The poison courses through your veins, even while the cyclists pedal on oblivious to your trauma. And the last thing you see is a view of the beautiful French Pyrenees on Versus TV.
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