We will all die in the crushing mandibles of mutant tarantulas - and here's why...

​Well, that’s how I see the end of days, thanks to a small story that appeared in this wonderful news organ. By all accounts, a box of baby tarantulas was left on a doorstep for collection but was ransacked by unscrupulous thieves sparking fears the little critters were now at large.

My initial thought was ‘wow, Just Eat have really expanded their menu choice.’

But on further reading, the delivery was from a pet supply business and the recipients, from Chester-le-Street, avid spider collectors. As ever, the devil is in the detail. This was not a package of tarantulas, but a ‘mystery box’ of baby spiders of which there may have been at least one tarantula. This species, the story revealed, is not recommended for beginner spider keepers due to their ‘aggressive nature and fast movements’ (I’m assuming that refers to the spiders, not the keepers).

My current life-partner was furious these creatures could be put in danger and demanded swift retribution. I, on the other hand, could only see the potential for a horror story that sparks the end of mankind.

While unregulated Artificial Intelligence and man-made climate disasters are the armageddons of choice for today’s doom-mongers, I still hanker for a good old fashioned Seventies ending.

As a child of the Seventies, I was brought up on a diet of horror books like The Rats, Night of the Crabs and Croc (crocodiles running mad in the New York sewers) and movies where sharks (Jaws), bears (Grizzly) and whales (Orca: The Killer Whale) go for the throat.

What’s the chances those missing baby killer spiders seek shelter in the air vents of a toxic waste testing facility and, after gorging themselves on a vat of gunge from silo number three, get hit by a freak lightning strike, sparking rapid hormone change and super-spider strength?

Probably zero, but since they went missing, there’s been an ominous silence from the usually chatty folk at the Toxic Gunges ‘R’ Us store in Chester-le-Street. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…