Totally forgot about this until I stumbled on it again. This was a "rap" I wrote while ambushing with a spider group on Brandywine. To the tune of "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air." Enjoy....or not....
Now this is the story all about how my life got buried, right underground and I'd like to take a minute so just sit right there and I'll tell you how I became a spider with a woven snare.
In West Coldfells I was hatched and raised, in the burrow's where I spent most of my days. Chilling out, drinking, talking some smack, ambushing freeps and sending them back. When a couple of burgs said "he's up to no good" and started making trouble in my ambushing wood. Well I got in one little zerg and my moms got shook, she said "you're moving with your Auntie and Uncle in Gramsfoot!"
Well, I hissed and I chittered and I pleaded my case, but she insisted that I listen, hey even I know my place. So, I grew up in a clutch with hundreds of eggs, and came back with a vengeance on my eight crawling legs.
I crawled back down to STAB when I was all grown up, yelled to the two-leggers "yo fools bite ya later." Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, to sit in my burrow in my Ettenmoors lair.