There is a spider laying eggs in my mouth. This is inconvenient because I do not like spiders. They have too many legs, too many eyes and too much venom to be friends with me. I find that they are disrespectful of my personal space. None of my other friends would crawl into my mouth and start laying eggs whilst I am asleep. But spiders do. However, I do not mind so much, as spiders are delicious. Spider kebab, spider soup, spider’s legs on toast. All mouth-watering meals. Their eggs are yummy too. Spider’s eggs benedict is a personal favourite of mine.
So now I have to make a decision about this eight-legged monstrosity in my mouth. Do I chomp down on her now and enjoy the delicacy of raw live spider? This would also soothe my current paralysing arachnophobia. Do I wait for her to spread her delectable eggs all over my tongue and teeth so I can have spider eggy bread for breakfast? Surely, a little bit of uneasiness while this spider does her business is worth a lovely meal later on. That being said, she is really starting to tickle the roof of my mouth. This is a difficult choice to make.
There is, of course, a final option. It involves a lot of skill. However, I have been practicing. Ever since I was told the apparent myth of how many spiders you inadvertently swallow a year whilst asleep. Eight a year. That’s a fair chunk of unaccounted for protein and missing taste sensations. As such, I had been practicing this third option, which is to carefully kill the spider by decapitating it with my teeth. Yummy spider brains. Then, using my teeth to hold its body in place, I start deconstructing its abdomen with my tongue. This is an extremely delicate process. The aim is to remove the eggs from their host without disrupting them. There are few things more frustrating than a pre-cracked egg, as any English breakfast fan will know.
This is the first time that I have ever carried out such surgery on a fresh spider. I am nervous but focussed. Eventually, my tongue has disintegrated the abdomen and I can feel the eggs sliding out and rolling around my mouth. I slot them in that groovy little pouch you have under your tongue. Once the spider is completely cleaned out, I swallow the entirety of her body. What a fantastic taste sensation. As for the eggs, there is a plan for these. I grab the empty water glass next to my bed and gob the entire contents of my mouth into it. Looking into it, there’s lots of saliva. Of course there is, my mouth has been watering throughout the entirety of this situation. I can also see the eggs, still intact, which is purely excellent news. Half of the eggs are going towards my breakfast. Spider egg omelette with pickled onions and jellied eels. Every man’s dream. The other half will go in the fridge for another time. Let’s hope they don’t hatch because I really am scared of spiders.