There. Now you know Dr. Spiderqueen’s first name. And now that I’ve given it to her, I will probably never use it again. Not because it isn’t a perfectly serviceable name, but because “Dr. Spiderqueen” is so much more evocative.

We’ve all heard of a parliament of owls, a gaggle of geese, and a murder of crows. But what about the creatures on this good semi-green Earth who lack a collective noun?

Winslow clearly didn’t listen to Reya when she told him Dr. Spiderqueen’s first name was “Antoinette” (because he knows better than to listen to anything Reya says, and so should you), and so he’s gone to Psychic Rob for assistance.

1. Steel-toed rubber boots. Because nothing says “Thank god!” more than not breaking a toe as a cloven hoof stamps on your foot when you’re ankle-deep in cow manure.

As I was drawing this week’s strip, I thought about how this situation has probably actually happened to someone, and then I realized that this kind of happened to ME, which made everything even more awkward.