an arachnid of some kind, perhaps a tarantula, wrote the Braille letter 'P' repeatedly across the surface of a sand-dune. Probably to let the future know that unscrupulous members of the time-travelling spider-gambling fraternity had doped it with amphetamines in order to win a race.
[Christa Sadler] set up a 4-meter long sandy runway with a slight hill in the middle. She sprayed water on some of the sand and kept the rest dry. Then she released tarantulas and scorpions onto the runway. She varied the speeds at which they could traverse the course by introducing a headwind, and recorded how their footprints changed with speed, angle, and moisture."Excuse me, Professor Sadler, I hope you and your colleagues are not betting on those spiders?" "Of course not, Dean! They are helping prepare the handicaps for the next stage of this important experiment!"
It goes without saying that any spider racing that might take place on Wednesday nights after 11 p.m. at the Old Entomologist is completely above-board and is conducted in accordance with all the relevant regulations. Also head barmaid Evangeline van Holsterin is unbending when she makes us clear all the sand off the shuffleboard table afterwards. In particular, it is inconceivable that any of the regular winners could be doped with performance-enhancing drugs -- notably, four-time champion Hot Needle of Inquiry -- and anyone who does whisper of doping is just a bad loser and poor sportsman. Come on, ZRM and Thunder, pony up.
The blood is the life
a sperm web with his specialised epiandral spinnerets, but Evangeline did not appreciate the inseminatory compliment and Mauricio is now banned.