Victoria Chaffin, a legal billing specialist by day and thrash metalhead by night, sits on the puffy couch in her Denver living room, grinning as she peers into her personal spider farm.
Chaffin takes a translucent plastic jar, pulsating with fruit flies. She shakes a few flies through a straw into a clear plastic cube. They unwittingly plummet toward their doom.
Inside the cube, a clutter of baby spiders awaits. They cling to the walls, waiting for Chaffin to look away before they gobble up their dinner.
