"Mister Sims." Tarantulas is holding a bowl of pudding -- how fortunate for him and his sweet tooth that so many people brought dessert! -- and smiling in a guarded, slightly uncomfortable way, his extra legs twitching slightly in mid-air. He's not about to be rude to his therapist's partner, but the staring, you see. It's starting to fucking get to him. "Is there anything I can do for you? You seem...unusually focused."