With only four weeks until exams, honors students and honors-adjacent students across campus are seeking comfort from the most drastic sources with the most asinine plans. When petting whatever dog happens to run between your legs on Landis green ceases to quell the impending fear of your biochemistry final- even non-STEM majors are some seeking sweet, sweet emotional relief from anything remotely warm, fuzzy and welcoming. For Lilly Butler, Soup Can the emotional support tarantula is a beacon of light in the abyss of final projects. For anyone else living in BLG, Soup Can is the unholy nightmare spawn that’s come to haunt their dreams after her escape from her terrarium into Justin McCrary’s single room in Gilchrist hall.
“Look, I’m more scared for Soupy than half of the assclowns that keep thinking she’s gonna waste her time feeding on their brains in their sleep. I’ll have you jerks know she’s a sophisticated lady who only eats brains with a 3.75 GPA or above,” Spider enthusiast and stressed out freshman Lilly Butler said as she posted signs that said “Soup Can is a licensed support tarantula! She’ll only do mild harm!” throughout Broward, Landis and Gilchrist. “Like, seriously. What’s she gonna do? Nibble your ankles to death? Only mildly poison you? Get a grip!”
“I don’t care if that thing was named Mother Teresa! If anything is capable of bringing the entirety of BLG to its knees, Soup can. If it so much as shakes a hairy little foot in the direction of my dorm, I’m calling FSUPD,” resident Landis goth Justin McCrary yelled while clutching his support opossum to his chest for dear life as it gnawed on his shoulder. “Oscar Wilde and I didn’t become honors students just to be terrorized 24 hours a day by the ungodly screams of our neighbors! If I wanted that, I’d live in Dorman or Deviney!”
Some students with less acute arachnophobia have taken this as a grace from either God or the benevolent ghost of FSU’s team spirit after a crumpling defeat in quidditch. “You know I’d rather be living in total fear of a spider making a nest out of my pillows than even thinking about my astronomy final. This is honestly less terrible, even though I screamed when a string on my shirt hit my neck this morning,” one freshman stated, quickly glancing over their shoulders when another student shrieked in the distance, only to brusquely explain that it was not the illusive Soup Can but a clump of spider webs which, assuredly, is just as bad.