I Am a Professional Exterminator

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"I am a professional exterminator. I enjoy my job. Most of the time I do. I hate when work calls me at odd hours. Once I got a text from the big boss during Christmas dinner. Unfortunately, I had to fix his problem before morning. At least they paid me 100 large for the night.
"I am inwardly a good person. I do everything to keep my career and my personal life completely separate. I am a model husband and father. I coach each of my three daughter's soccer teams and attend every school play. I even usher at Church every Sunday. At home, I clean. I scrub the bathrooms and make the kitchen shine. Most nights I cook dinner. I am a gourmet Italian chef. If you could ask my wife, she would tell you.
"My whole business is based on repeat work for one customer. I have been doing assignments for this family for 25 years. So I keep the Padrino happy. That means I complete contracts the way they want it done.
"Of course, I always study the latest advancements in my profession. I field test products or techniques before using them on the job, like Mythbusters. It's my responsibility to prove that every product or method works as advertised. Besides, I would be utterly mortified if I didn't complete an assignment. It might even ruin my reputation. I will never allow that.
"I have unusually particular requirements for this contract. Most of my fellow exterminators are lazy. They blast away with cyanide gas and call everything good. Not me. I have my professional pride to uphold. Most of the time, Big Carlo lets me choose my methods. This one is different.
"I'm telling you this so you may understand why I am doing this. You are a perfect stranger. Mr. Gambino insisted on a practice run. He wants the target to die in prolonged agony. The street says the monster molested his granddaughter. You should consider yourself honored by helping to make sure this child rapist will never destroy innocence again. Do you enjoy history? You are taking part in a historical re-enactment. You get to experience how the real Dracula became famous. No, he wasn’t a vampire. He was Vlad the Impaler. That is why I rammed a greased pole up your fat slob ass until it came out your mouth. We both want to know whether you really can survive three days. I poured the chocolate syrup on your little cazzo and your cogliones because Carlo wants rats to chew them off.
"I must leave you now. It’s time for lunch. I see my furry helpers are eating theirs. It's your fault you trusted a complete stranger on Craigslist. The boss told me to design five different ways that most fit the crime. After viewing the recordings, Mr. Gambino will select the final method. This is test two. If my experiment hurts, be glad you aren't participating in the next three tests."
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