There had been a spider in Miguel's room this week. It had spun a lovely web, eaten a few small bugs, and generally been spiderish.

Now Miguel was Miguel again, and he had a terrible aftertaste in his mouth.

He scowled and pulled on some pants, then went to get a large drink of something. Anything, so long as it wasn't bug-flavored.

"This had shocking well have been the island and not a secondary mutation!" he grumbled to nobody in particular.


[Open to the housemates or for texts or calls or whatever!]