Only a snort escaped from Evil Rick. How amusing they trotted into his territory with such a demand. . . no, it was pathetic. He waved a hand nonchalantly, “How disappointing you came all this way for such a petty desire. Hate to tell--no wait I’d love to tell you little fuckers that there isn’t much of flesh left.”
Rick rose a hand, tapping a closed fist against the left side of his head, a metallic sound resonating from beneath, “You’ll be just getting metal and mostly synthetic flesh.” Still, even if they wanted to go for that, they would find it difficult. Around them the Crab Spiders let out their little laughs.
“Intruders are not my concern, besides my minions enjoy taking care of the pests that decide to wander into the web. I deal with the nosy fuckers who have something of value.”