What the fuck was wrong with Clapton Davis, you think to yourself, staring up at the spider crawling across his wall. It was small, half the size of a penny, yet he was sat, curled up in his bed with the covers over his head yelling "get it out! get it out!"

3am. It was 3am. This happened alot, he'd wake you up in the night with a phone call and begged you to come over, or in this situation, to get a bug from his room.

An 18 year old boy, terrified of bugs. It was honestly amusing.