Once upon a tomb, lived Sammy the Spider, an Arachnida that constructed his web by anchoring its ends from one tombstone to another in a nondescript cemetery overlooking the plains. It attached from the base of one plot to the top of another and rose 3 feet above the grass at the 2 upper attachment points. The circular cobweb, derived from an archaic word, “coppe”, meaning spider, was a superb supermarket for Sammy, supplying him with monstrous moths, massive mounds of mosquitoes, and a generous group of green grasshoppers. Sammy was a fabulously fat bastard, compliments of his strategic placement on the high ground of the human boneyard, situated between Fred and Vera Miller’s monuments. Beneath the spider’s 8 legs, only the skeletons of the Millers’ remain. The flesh and muscle are long gone, compliments of bacteria and worms entering that underground supermarket. When the Millers were alive, they owned a hundred-acre farm which became their own personal supermarket. Cows supplied milk and beef; chickens supplied eggs and drumsticks. Pigs made Fred happy because of his addiction to bacon, and Vera relished her garden which bore her fruits and vegetables. The whole farm was self-sustaining; all that was required was fuel in the forms of wood, diesel, sun, and sweat. In time, their diet killed the Millers by collecting food-borne compounds in their bodies. Processes were stopped, organs failed, and the pair became a stationary supermarket 6 feet down. Sammy could care less. Their earlier decision to buy that plot and headstones put Sammy on easy street and life was grand. As Sammy relaxed with a belly full of beetles, he looked at the tombstone across the road with the 2 black granite angels on the top. There were now 3, and the middle one launched like a rocket towards him. Before the supersized spider could react, the raven picked him off the web, flew him to the top of Fred’s marker, bit off his venomous head, and swallowed him whole. SUPERMARKETS.