The silence of the cliffside hotel was shattered not by a gunshot or a party gone wrong, but by a sound so high-pitched and operatic that it could have shattered the fine crystal in the dining room. It was a classic, Grade-A, "damsel-in-distress" shriek, the kind that usually ends with a dragon being slain.

In the hallway, you froze. The sound had definitely come from Dieter Bravo’s suite. Given Dieter’s penchant for... well, everything, you expected to find a hitman or at least a fire. Instead, the frantic pleading started.

"No! Stay back, you eight-legged demon! Help! Someone, for the love of God, help me! I’m too beautiful to die like this!"

You reached his door just as a second, even higher crescendo peaked. You pounded on the wood. "Dieter? Dieter, open up! Are you okay?"

The locks clicked frantically, one, two, three, before the door whipped open. Dieter stood there, his hair perfectly disheveled in a way that suggested he’d been thrashing, his silk robe fluttering around his ankles. He looked pale, his eyes wide with a genuine, soul-deep terror.

"You!" he gasped, grabbing your shoulders with surprising strength. "You’re here! Thank God, a witness! A savior!"

Before you could ask what was wrong, his grip shifted. With a sudden, desperate heave, he pivoted you into the room, using your body as a human shield as he retreated toward the balcony.

"There! By the minibar!" he hissed, pointing a trembling finger at the carpet.

You looked down. There, sitting motionless on the plush rug, was a spider. It was small, dusty brown, and looked significantly more confused by the situation than Dieter was.

"It looked at me," Dieter whispered from behind your shoulder, his hands still gripping your arms as he steered you toward the insect like a tactical battering ram. "It has too many eyes. It’s fuzzy in a way that suggests malice. Kill it! Or capture it! Just don't let it touch the cashmere!"

He gave you another shove forward, his voice dropping back into that panicked, melodic whine. "I think it’s a scout. There are probably more in the vents. Why are you just standing there? Deal with the beast!"