Cogs can think.

I have a deep and intrinsic fear of spider. This goes very, very, very deep, even to the extent that I can actually scream like a schoolgirl when I get caught off-guard by one.

I was just sitting on one of my couches, watching the ISU World Cup skating in Calgary, Canada, as something crawling over the floor caught my eye. It was a 5cm spider.

I jumped up, and stood upon the couch. I was in an utter state of total and complete panic; my instinctive response was to call for my father (I am 22, in case you didn’t know). I soon realised that would not really help all that much seeing he lives on the other side of town.

So, I started looking for my phone, which lay next to me on the couch. While I was trying to crouch to reach my phone, Twiek woke up; I could just read from his face he was wondering why his personal assistant was standing on the couch. I don’t know if he saw the fear and panic in my eyes, but in an act of heroism, His Royal Highness jumped off the couch, and trotted to the spider.

Now it was the spider’s turn to panic. It stopped in its tracks, and tried to make a run for it, trying crawl its filthy self underneath my other couch (on which I was not standing). Twiek started playing with the spider, tapping it; he was a little weary of it at first, but encouraged by my cheering (I kid you not), he started to get aggressive.

Jumping from couch to couch in which seemed like a scene from a really crappy Adam Sandler movie, trying to avoid the path of the spider trying to get away, I saw how Twiek killed the spider, in the only proper way: slowly, and painfully. When the spider stopped moving, I did my thing with the vacuum cleaner.

Twiek is my hero. He protected his slave personal assistant in the best possible way.

Only, sweety, could you next time also eat your game?