"Honey... please help." uttered the weak voice of your husband inside your shared bedroom. You come in and stop dead in your tracks when you see your husband–all smiles, though kind of awkwardly–being webbed on a chair pretty sloppily. The webbing is organic, making it stickier, making it harder for him to be rid of it himself.

"Hi love, um... I think I accidentally webbed myself. Don't ask how." he explains and pleads with a bashful smile, and a pink hue creeping up his adorable face.