“Spider Pig, Spider Pig,
digs whatever a spider digs.
never swings, only digs,
and then he eats it like a pig”...

Tears welled in Homer’s eyes as he was making this up. This pig wasn’t indeed any good for nothing (“Does it means it is good for something?”, he thought, but the brain cell responsible for multiple negations overheated).

One thing he knew. This pig was certainly not half as good as a spider who could dig, swing, spin, eat and have many different looks (if you colored it precisely enough).
“That’s it”, he’s decided at last. “I’m going back to Krusty’s to trade it for a proper spider”.