You give up on the stinger. Why bother when you can leave a patch of sticky stuff, hide, and then kill and eat a meal at your leisure?!

As an effective hunter, you can grow quite large. Your simple leg gills become adapted to air instead of water and you need more of them, so they eventually become internal structures of very many fine folds, looking like pages. These are called “book lungs”. In order to stay very still while waiting for food, you double them up so that you can get enough oxygen through without moving at all.

Eventually, the patches of sticky stuff get cleverer and cleverer. Some of you specialise in building tunnels, some of you use lassoos, and many of you make webs. The old English name for you is a “cob”, which is why your webs are called “cob webs”.

The biggest of you now is about 25cm. There are at least 40,000 species of you, as you differentiate still further and occupy every corner of the globe except Antarctica. Some jump, some spit, some lay traps, but all of you hunt. Anything. Including other spiders! Including the spider you just mated with!! You are a lean mean, arthopod killing machine: a Spider.