Amnesiac (And Other Yipping Tales)

by Yip

Rating: teen
Tags: Random
Length: 5578

Random ideas work wonders.

Here are some <30 minute speedfics (with a possible exception or two) I did in my spare time for some fun. Expect existentialism, parody, anything else you can think of. Kill me, please.

Cover image graciously made by the incredibly artistic fissionprime.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-19 01:02:18 UTC

Amnesiac (22 Minutes)

I don’t know who I am. I just woke up in this dark room, unaware of my name, my life or even how I got here. I’m not really sure where I am, even. All I see is near pitch black darkness, and I can make out a few objects. But I don’t even remember what they’re called! Is that a... book? No, I don’t even remember what that means.

I keep trying to stumble along and find something or somepony... wait a second! Somepony! Either I must know what a ‘somepony’ is, or maybe it’s someone’s name! Somepony, huh? Probably a great person, I would love to meet him someday. Or maybe it’s a she? Oh well, I’ll figure out eventually.

Hey, I just found something cold and round... I can turn it? What does this mean— whoa! The door just flew open! Wait, it’s called a door? I guess my mind is solving these mysteries on its own! So what could that thing I was twisting be? A door round? No, that’s not it. Oh well, I guess I can’t remember absolutely everything.

Now I’m taking some steps into another room. It’s pretty pitch black too, and I can’t make out anything more. It’s just like the other room, now that I think about it! Wait, room? My mind is working wonders today! Now if only I could remember what my name was— oh, what is this? Another of these so-called doors? Interesting!

Urgh, it won’t budge! How else am I going to get through this? It doesn’t look too strong, maybe I can break it down! But how? With my hoof? Well, there you go. I learned something else. I might as well give this a try! HYAAAH!

Buck! I was no match for this door this time, but I’ll get you next time! Now, if I could see, maybe I could get something from in here and bust down that door without hurting myself. Wait a second, there’s something poking me on the wall! And it lighted up the room when I pressed it! Gee, my mind is thinking it’s either a light switch or a finger... finger it is! Now that I used the power of this finger, I now know all about light!

Let’s see how much I can use in this room! Hold on a second, there’s a bunch of big, heavy things here! Nah, it probably won’t bust down the door. How about this shiny little stick thing with teeth? A... key? No, it doesn’t look strong enough to break down a door.

Aha! I know what I’ll use! I’ll use my head! Surely, this pointy thing at the end was supposed to be used as a battering ram! Here we go! One, two, three!

This didn’t turn out so well. The pointy thing appears to be sensitive to the touch! And now I’m in serious pain... at least, my mind is telling me it’s pain. I don’t really feel anything! But that’s not an issue right now, I still need to get that door open! That key looks really important, maybe I am supposed to bust it down with it? Why not, I have all the time I need!

Constant beating appears ineffective. I keep trying to jab it into the door, but to no avail. What if I try it on the round thingy? Oh no, it got stuck! Urgh, I can’t get it out! I might as well let go, no point in— hey! The door opened! Maybe the key opened it with magic! Oh, it just led to another dark room, isn’t that just great? And why am I still thinking to myself? I could just go and do stuff, but this whole thinking thing is slowing me down!

Hey, the light from the other room is coming through! How fantastic! I can see a little light at least, but it’s still somewhat dark in here. Oh, what’s this? It’s some plastic thing... plastic, huh? Weird, it feels all soft and neat! I really like this plastic thing! But what does it say? It seems to have some writing on it! Darn, this darkness isn’t making it any easier to tell what it is. How can I find out what’s on it?

Oh, right. I can move to the other room. Duh!

Hmm... it has a picture of a pony on it that’s red, just like me. Wait, what even is red? Did I mean purple? If only I knew what colours were like, I’d know what colour I was! What a sad life I must live now! Carrying on now... it says the name is... deceased? I see some black writing underneath, but all I can see is the big red word spelling ‘deceased’ on top. Is deceased my name? How odd! The rest of the information on the plastic has the same red writing on top! At least I know my name now!

Maybe if I get out of here, I can find this Somepony person, or find someone to help me. What if everything I’m learning about is a lie, though? I don’t even know what colour I am, so maybe my name isn’t really Deceased! Maybe that wasn’t a key I used! First things first, though. I’ve got to get out of here first, then I’ll think of questions.

Oh! Light is coming from another door in the last room! And the round thingy on it has the same shape as my key! Now I can finally get out of here and into the light! Here we go, it’s time to open this! I’m inserting the key, and the door is opening slowly...

Oh, okay. There’s light in here, but it’s coming from the second room I was in— hey! I’m in the first room again! Have I been going in round shapes? ...Circles? Whatever, I don’t even care anymore about round shapes! I’m just going to sit down and be the only thing I know I am; Deceased.

It’s fun being Deceased.

Rocking Out (29 Minutes)

There is a rock standing in front of you.

It's not a particularly large rock by any means; although you can barely see over it, you aren't necessarily the biggest of ponies around. Nevertheless, a rock is still standing right in front of you, blocking your way through the path. Something about the rock is making you forget just why exactly you were even going down this path, but that isn't the concern right now. You need to figure out why there's a rock in your way, and figure out how to conquer it, or it will haunt you for eternity.

But first, you choose to analyze the ground, and see if you can move the rock if the ground was going downhill. Sadly, it's only a regular gravel road going straight into the horizon, making it impossible to move the rock with your low strength ability. Maybe if you got out more, it might have been possible. Perhaps it wouldn't have been possible no matter how strong you were, but that notion is pointless, since you are stuck with your current strength and cannot get any stronger over the next little while.

Inspecting the rock closer, you notice that it is a dull shade of grey, as most rocks you see generally are. The shape, however, isn't similar to a sphere like most other rocks are; it's more like a big slate you can barely see over, reminding you of your boring desk job back in Manehattan, a job that you were probably happy to escape from to do... whatever you are doing, if you remembered it better. It completely covers the decently-sized path you are still standing on, much to your disappointment. This disappointment is quickly extinguished, however, when you discover that the rock is completely symmetrical. The beauty of the rock's complete perfection in equality, despite being quite dull in colour, fascinates your easily distracted mind. This isn't something you see every day, since nature is so unsymmetrical 99.9% of the time that you experience it (which is, frankly, only a few hours a month).

Taking an even closer look at the rock, you're able to tell what the rock is made up of. It's dotted with grey rocks all throughout its composition, despite your wish to see something that hindered the perfection you see on the stone surface. No jewels, abnormalities or indents appear visible on the rock, making it seem even more ethereal than real as it previously seemed. Looking to the sides, you realize that you could have just went around or hopped over the rock the entire time. You slap your hoof onto your head in an attempt to punish yourself for your stupidity.

You poise yourself to make your way around, choosing not to risk grazing your hooves on the rock were you to jump over it. Before you could move, though, something from the obstacle stops you from going any further; a "grappling force" on you, if you will.

You turn yourself back to the curious object that is still blocking your way, even preventing you from going around. Something about it, something peculiar, is keeping you drawn to the path, stopping you from going over or around the rock. There's only one option you have at this point, and it's calling your name.

Go through the rock.

In a fit of disbelief, your brain immediately shuts down the idea. But soon, your conscience's ability to influence your decisions begins to fade, leaving you with empty morals and values concerning your life. Your friends back in Manehattan, whatever business you had with the town you were heading towards, which you realize after seeing the clock tower in the distance that it is Ponyville, is soon forgotten. Small glimpses of your deity, your integral values and any ponies or living things you've come across show up, but once they've left, you're left alone with no memories of anything except this rock that is still standing in front of you, taunting you with its seemingly magical abilities. As your emotions have gone with everything else from your hard shell of a body, you feel no anger by the taunts, even if they are a figment of your imagination, which is also gone as of right now.

You could have just gone back. You could also have just lied there, and not considered attempting to defeat the obstacle in your path. You might have been happier. Happiness, though, is gone, just like the rest of you.

The rock would have appeared menacing at that point, had you not lost your ability to fear things. It has shown that it has an astounding power to change ponies' lives completely, as it has done with you over the span of one minute. If you still had the ability to think logically, you would have been able to realize that it is not a sentient object, and therefore cannot have the magical abilities you are claiming it has been using. It is also highly unfortunate that you aren't in the town you've forgotten about, as a memory you had before contained the name of a powerful unicorn that can deal with the sort of problems you are currently experiencing.

Without anything inside of you left, the rock suddenly vanishes. If you still had the will to discover inside of you, the peculiar disappearance would have made you realize that the rock was a figment of your imagination, and was never blocking your path. But even though it no longer exists, and hasn't ever existed, it did the job that is impossible for it to have completed.

You wander aimlessly for the rest of your life, not pausing to stop for anything. You never encounter a rock ever again, but if you had, it wouldn't have steered you off course, since rocks no longer matter for your life to exist. Does anything actually matter for your existence to be true? Most likely not, but things such as the sky, the sun and whatever else the planet has to offer is not affected by anything you do or become. Especially now that you have changed from a nearly worthless pony to a dead weight that is plagued with walking the world forever, without purpose and without reason.

Do you even exist? Perhaps the entire time, this story never even took place. You don't really have a sentience.

No, that isn't true. You did exist the entire time. But now, only a shell is actually present. And it wasn't even because of a rock, or your inability to go over a non-existent rock, or the magical abilities of the rock that you believed to be true before belief was removed from your system. Now that you don’t have anything, though, do you really exist? What is existence to you, or what was it like before? It must’ve been subjective, because you may or may not be real depending on your source. And most sources, however biased, incorrect or skewed each one may be, cannot have even the slightest sliver of reliability that could provide you with the correct answer. Even you, who supposedly knows the most about yourself, couldn’t hope to ever truly understand anything about your own existence.

So now, because of a rock, or possibly even yourself, you have nothing more to live for in an empty world you’ve done meaningless things to contribute to. Do you know what you’ve gained from all this, though? What have you gained that you can’t even do anything about, or feel satisfaction from attaining?

You are no longer standing in front of a rock.

Fifteen Steps (30 Minutes)

Twilight Sparkle took a step. It was not altogether a terribly long or unnatural step by any means, but it made her think of something. As she stopped in the middle of Ponyville to ponder it, many curious glances were shot in her direction.

Something earlier that day—no, this was much longer before that—came to mind. Something about how with every breath you took, with every step you took, a pony dies somewhere in the world. The ponies dying peacefully in their sleep was not what bothered Twilight at that moment—but when she thought of the starving fillies and colts in the poorer parts of the world, her stomach gave a churn. Nevertheless, she took another step.

This one held similar reactions from ponies around her, finding it mighty peculiar that Twilight Sparkle, the local neurotic—and friendly, of course, can’t forget about friendly, they say—wasn’t moving. Twilight had no such thought crossing her mind, mostly because she had heard something else long ago about what went on in the world; elsewhere, places where she had never been, ponies were being oppressed. Her thoughts flashed to Princess Celestia and her peaceful reign, and she shuddered to imagine what life would be like under someone’s tyrannical rule like King Sombra’s. Imagery of the desolation caused by such a regime flashed in her mind—yet, despite the beads of sweat running down her forehead and neck, despite her heavy breathing, she took another step.

The third step was much more relaxing. Her mind had drifted to her friends and how, through the magic of friendship, they had conquered all of the evil that was thrown their way. For the first time in the three steps she took, a hint of a smile began to creep up on her face—she took another step happily.

When her thoughts drifted to the evil she and her friends conquered, though, the fourth step took its toll—Chrysalis only did what she did in order to feed her entire species. They hadn’t even given the changelings the chance to reform or offer an alternative; they were forcibly removed from Canterlot, cruel even with Chrysalis being terribly deceptive. Twilight took another step, and with crystal clarity, she remembered each of the villains’ goals—none of them included murder, and none of them save Discord was given a chance afterwards. Even Discord took a great deal of time to get started on.

Twilight’s stomach churned once more, this time stronger than before. What made them so much better than those they’ve faced? Is she the one that’s evil, the one who’s causing more grief than good overall? No, she thought. They were evil. She and her friends did what they needed to do for the good of ponykind.

With a stronger feeling of self-pride backing her up, she took another step. The sixth presented her with an image of her parents—the ones she hadn’t visited during the entire time she had spent in Ponyville. She imagined them crying, wishing that they could just see their daughter once every so often. She made a mental note to visit them through efforts to fight back tears. As she took the seventh step, these efforts proved to be in vain. Ponies all around kept staring at Twilight, wondering why she was crying and whether they should help; the truth of the matter was, plainly, that she was actually happy. This step had no imagery or thoughts, and although she shed tears, she did not have her mind to burden her.

She took her eighth step, but this one did not share the last one’s characteristics. As if to make up for its lack of imagery on the last step, her mind flooded with images of those that counted on her to make things right in the world, with Celestia’s being the biggest. How could she, a new princess who just begun to use her newfound powers, match up with the celestial figure? Her heart’s courage faded, as she knew she could not rise up to the task and meet expectations. Regardless, her body was able to take another step.

The ninth step was much more physical than the other eight; she had stepped on a sharp rock that now found itself embedded in her hoof, as if reminding her again of her strife. She cursed under her breath and prodded it out—painfully, very painfully—with her other hoof. A trickle of blood flowed from the wound, but now that the rock was out, it was of little concern to her. She took another step.

The tenth step finally had a mare—a pink one, Pinkie Pie as she had discovered quickly—approach her and ask her if she was alright. Twilight looked to her friend, who had a rough fillyhood, who didn’t have magic, who didn’t have wings, yet she was many times happier than Twilight had ever been in her life. Twilight did not have to struggle to survive at any point, and this made her heart sink and her eyes water. Despite this, she told Pinkie adamantly that she was fine. As she took her eleventh step, Pinkie left, understanding that this was not natural, but needed to be dealt with on her own.

At the eleventh step, Twilight wondered what she did to cause this. Her day had been going fine—she visited a new part of Ponyville she had never seen before, sure, but besides that, everything was fine. She looked around for signs of Discord, ignoring the curious glances that were still shot in her direction all around. When she was satisfied that this was not an outsider’s doing, she took another step, pleading that this nightmare would end there.

It did not. All of Twilight’s nightmares suddenly crept up on her, hitting her with full impact all at once. Although it was not physical damage, the force of the impact nearly sent her reeling backwards—once they had stopped, she regained her composure, pleaded once more for everything to be normal again and took another step.

The thirteenth step showed her an image of Spike. He was doing something for her—shelving books? No, he had already done that by the looks of the neat, orderly shelves behind him. Had he cleaned up the library? The floor was already spotless. Twilight felt remorse; she couldn’t remember the last time she had even apologized or thanked Spike, let alone do something nice for him as he had done so many times before. She took another step.

At the fourteenth step, the image of a gravestone she had seen that day flashed in front of her. She could not read what it said through her mind, but she knew exactly what it said. Her stomach churned, tears flowed and her legs wobbled. It was hard enough saying goodbye—now she had to remember him? The thought was too painful for her to keep.

Twilight took her fifteenth step—her final step before reaching the library door she had grown accustomed to. It invited her into its warming confines, the place she so desperately wanted at that moment—despite being completely empty of life. The fifteen steps she took would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Night Crawler (56 Minutes)

After a good day of taking inventory in the library, Twilight had a small conundrum. Everything seemed to be in place when she arrived—books were in good shape, nothing was on the floor and she had seen to it that Spike had any dust and dirt swept away.

Her conundrum was that there was a curious lime-green book on the top leftmost shelf, one that she had never seen before.

‘Spike?’ Twilight called out, keeping her gaze fixed on the mysterious tome. ‘Spike, do you know if we got any new books for the library recently?’

After a loud, startled yawn came from the top floor, a voice replied in a groggy, half-asleep tone, ‘Uh... no? I think the last book you got was that plant one from last month.’

Puzzlement filled Twilight’s mind as she continued to stare at the book, bewildered at how a book could sneak past her watchful eyes. It wasn’t just yesterday that she had begun keeping the library in form.

‘Why, what’s the matter?’ Spike called out from above, leaning his head over the top floor’s edge and rubbing his bloodshot eyes. ‘Something happen in here overnight?’

‘No—well, I don’t know,’ Twilight replied, unsure of the answer herself. ‘I’m not sure why, but that book up there—the lime-green one on your right—wasn’t there last night. I really don’t know what to do with it.’

Spike groaned and lifted himself back up, beginning his walk back to bed. ‘Really, Twi? You could’ve just...’ Spike yawned and climbed into his basket, crumpling up the sheets as he settled down. ‘...You could’ve just used your magic to bring it down. I’m going back to bed...’

Before she could protest, Twilight’s mouth was shut tight by a snoring sound coming from the top floor. ‘Ugh. It could be a trap, Spike,’ she said under her breath. Maybe if I carefully edge it out of the shelf—’

In the time it took Twilight to blink, the book had moved the slightest amount forward from the shelf, which didn’t go unnoticed by the meticulous Twilight. After a few more blinks—this time in disbelief—she frowned, kept her eyes open and stared at the book.

Am I going crazy? Twilight thought, furrowing her eyebrows as she stared intently at the book, which did not move even under her piercing glare. No, Twilight. You’re fine, it was just a trick of the light.

After she allowed her eyes to blink once more, Twilight noticed the book had gone out a considerable distance from where it was at originally. Before she could form a reaction, though, the book began to shake and shudder all on its own—everything else in the room remained still.

Twilight simply continued to stare at the writhing, lime-green text that she had only discovered minutes before, standing as still as a stone. She had never dealt with a book that was alive before; waiting it out to see what would happen was judged as the best plan of action.

A few moments later and the book was unshelved, still moving on its own. Twilight recoiled and took a step backwards, trying to shake her attention off of the book. Her jaw hung loose as a small black dot appeared on the book’s cover, slowly extending into a sharp, jagged extension.

Twilight was petrified as the book grew seven more of these, stopping only to continue writhing until it stood with the book as its torso and the eight extensions lifting it as legs. The legs were separated into two groups of four, lined up just as a spider would.

This was further confirmed as a furry ball of grey grew from the front of the book—which was normally the top of the book when stood upright.

Twilight had to watch and analyze as this all took place, only prompting a reaction when four red eyes appeared on the head.

‘AHHHHHHH!’ Twilight screamed at the top of her lungs, finally recovering control of her speech and hooves as she darted up the stairs towards Spike. The dragon, who had been awoken once more by the screech, shot out of bed in a panicked frenzy.

‘Whozat? What’s going on?’ Spike questioned, alert and ready for danger. When he looked up at Twilight’s horrified, panic-stricken eyes and trembling lips, he sighed and began calming down. ‘Twilight, is this about that book? I told you, just—’

‘S-S-Sp’ Twilight sputtered, unable to finish.

‘A spider? Was there a spider in the bookshelf?’ Twilight nodded her head quietly, but as she opened her mouth to protest, Spike cut her off. ‘Scared of a spider? Wow, it’s either really big or... you need some sleep. I’m guessing it’s the latter.’

‘B-But Spike, the spider—’

‘If you really want,’ Spike interrupted, sighing, ‘I’ll go take a look. I’m not sure why one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria is scared of a night crawler, but I’m sure it’s nothing a little rest can’t help.’

Spike walked over to the same edge he had been leaning over previously, taking a peek down below at ground floor. His eyes glazed over the floor to find anything of note, but nothing besides a lime-green book lying squat in the middle was any different from usual.

‘There isn’t even a spider, Twilight. You really need some rest.’ Spike drew himself away from the edge, yawned and began walking back to bed. Before he crawled into his basket, he turned and rolled his eyes to Twilight. ‘I don’t care if you go to bed or not, I’m really, really tired and I don’t want to argue with you. Good night, Twilight.’

Twilight once again regained feeling in her body, but confusion began replacing where the fear used to be. Without acknowledging Spike’s comment, she trotted over to the edge where he had stood and looked over the edge.

Sure enough, the book was just lying there, without any insect legs or spider head creeping out of it.

‘Huh,’ Twilight said to no pony in particular, ‘maybe it really was just me acting crazy. Maybe the book just slipped my mind earlier.’

In a much calmer, soothed mood than she had been in prior, Twilight went down the library’s stairs to deal with the misplaced book.

‘But why, then,’ Twilight said aloud again, ‘is the book lying on the floor? How did it get out of the shelf—’

Twilight once again stopped in her tracks as she took a look at the text; the legs that had come out before were back, along with the furry grey head and crimson red eyes. This time, though, it had company—nine other books were either finished spouting legs or were in the process of growing them.

The ones that were finished stared angrily at her.

‘AHHHHHHH!’ Twilight yelled out again, and darted back up the stairs away from the spider-books. ‘Spike, the spider is back! And this time there are more of them!’

Spike stirred, but a quiet comment of “go away” could be heard under his breath.

Ugh, it’s pointless to get him involved anyway! He wouldn’t be able to do anything against those spiders! Twilight snuck a quick look over the edge and noticed that all of the spiders were scuttering around where they were, seemingly lost in whatever mission they were trying to accomplish.

This time, though, several flowerpots, a few more books and even the doormat had begun sprouting legs. None of them were looking at Twilight, choosing instead to focus on growing their heads and legs.

Screeching would be a waste of energy—Twilight had already seen this happen, and a few more made no difference to her mental instability.

‘I’ve got to get out of here, maybe get some help so Spike doesn’t get eaten!’ Twilight concluded, grabbing the attention of the spiders. ‘If I don’t leave now, there will be too many to escape from!’

Swallowing her fear for a few moments, Twilight bolted down the remainder of the stairs and creeped along the wall towards the door while the crawling creatures began approaching her. Her screech had not gone unnoticed before, and now that they knew where she was, they wanted vengeance.

At least, that was what Twilight believed.

‘No!’ Twilight yelled out as the spiders were mere inches away from her hooves. ‘Not like this!’

Right before the original lime-green book-spider could reach her, though, she was at the wide open front door, having already been opened by her magic along the way. Wasting no more time, she bolted outside to search for aid.

‘Anypony? Is anypony out there?’ she called out, receiving no reply in answer. With what little she could see from the moonlight shining down on Ponyville, there were no ponies in sight. ‘Where is everypony?! I need help!’

Still no response was heard, but a faint scuttering sound could be heard all around.

Can I really hear those spiders from out here? How many could there possibly be made from all of that stuff? Her questions were answered by hundreds of red eyes popping out from different buildings all around her, slowly growing in number as the seconds passed by. Oh no...

The eyes began moving away from where they were, descending down from the buildings’ walls slowly onto the ground. Although the area was dimly lit, there were many slices of bread, umbrellas, scarves—anything that you could find in a household, they had eight legs, a furry spider head and they were coming straight towards Twilight.

Instinct kicked in for Twilight before she could react rationally. Her hooves carried her away from the encircling crowd of creatures and into the only direction she could go on—straight back home.

It’s the only thing I can do. I guess I don’t have a choice...

When she tried opening the door with her magic, though, she found that an old Equestrian instinct for fear seemed to have stopped her magic from activating. As the spiders slowly approached her in the night, anxious to attack the pony who had awoken them from the various buildings around Ponyville, Twilight became more and more panic-stricken.

‘No!’

With a final, desperate attempt to use magic, Twilight yelled out at the top of her lungs. The spiders stopped for a second, reeling from the screech’s pain, and Twilight found that her magic was flowing from her horn as normal. although fear was still present, she was able to quickly open the library’s wooden door.

Escaped the fire and into the frying pan... still not a great place to be. Better brace myself for my doom.

Twilight darted inside, closing the door behind her with her magic before shutting her eyes in anticipation for her assault.

Any moment now...

Nothing attacked her. Not even a sound was to be heard in the library besides Twilight’s hyperventilating and a deep snoring sound coming from the upper floor.

Twilight allowed herself a peek out from her closed eyelids, when she was surprised to discover that all the spiders were gone; everything was in place, no sound of scuttering could be heard from outside and the lime-green book was back on the floor, motionless and without any spiderlike characteristics.

‘W-’ Twilight began, unable to find the right words to say. ‘I-I don’t know what just happened.’ Before she could think, she lifted the book with her magic, opened the door and flung it outside. Sure enough, there were no spiders outside; this did not stop her from immediately shutting the door to prevent anything from coming in.

Without another word, stone-faced and disbelieving, Twilight blew out the oil lamp at the front that lit the room. She trotted up the stairs, lay on her bed and said nothing.

She wasn’t sure what had just happened, whether it was real or whether she was dreaming or not.

For several minutes, Twilight lay exposed on her bed in the dark, waiting to shoot right out of bed at any sign of the spider hybrids. It’s alright, Twilight. You were just a little tired. Go to sleep and everything will be alright.

As Twilight pulled the bed covers over herself, a curious sight was visible even in the darkness of night. Lying right on top of the sleeping Spike was a small, familiar little creature—albeit without the characteristic household object as a torso that she had grown accustomed to seeing.

It had a grey body, long and sharp black claws and red eyes staring back angrily.

But it was just a normal spider. There are no such things as book-spiders.