Thank Goodness , the beautiful, exotic Fire Goddess heard my 311 cry for help all the way from Element the hot new Club on Houston Street, Lower EastSide.

As brave as she is beautiful, she turned to face the Spider and singed his raggedy, worn, frayed, black mothball covered coat until he released his evil grip.

As a double precaution, she threw him into his own mailbox , and kicked it shut.

As a final gesture and apt punishment, she chucked three months of junk mail from Chase, Continental Airlines and Planned Parenthood into Sammy's mailbox, unopened as we all know how he hates junk mail above everything.

Then she locked the little door and neatly swallowed the key, without batting an eye.

"That takes care of that rascal, nuisance of a Spider", she said gallantly, "you look rather shaken. Let me warm you up..."