Who *hasn't* battled a burning effigy?

A drawing of sheer shiny awesomeness by Tom Gauld: Our hero battles twenty-six alphabeticised terrors..

(Doppelganger! Evil scientist! Floating skull! It has EVERYTHING \o/)

Also awesome is his series "The Writer at Work":
Ben Jonson
Leo Tolstoy
Dorothy Parker
Dylan Thomas
Emily Dickinson
Cervantes
Robert Burns

Thoughts that give no comfort

A couple of nights ago, I happened to glance up and saw a nasty-looking spider crawling unsteadily across the ceiling. I moved, it changed direction, it was apparently trying to drop on my head or something. I nipped off to the bathroom and grabbed one of the two water-glasses, and when I came back I foiled the spider's cunning plan as it rappelled onto my desk. Because I become a sook when dealing with spiders I've already trapped, it got tossed out into the darkness rather than smashed repeatedly with a shoe.

Tonight, I happened to glance sideways and saw another - even nastier - spider creeping towards me. Once again, ducked out of the room and grabbed the other glass, came back and trapped it. Unlike the other generically-nasty spider, I don't let white-tails go. But it's late; I don't want to deal with it tonight.

It's sitting downstairs now, under the glass. Maybe it knows I'm going to kill it. Maybe it's calling its friends, putting out a contract on me. Declaring spider-war. I don't know. It could be doing anything, down in the dark, empty kitchen. There's only one thing I know.

I've run out of glasses to trap them in.