“I’ve murdered thousands and only felt the slightest hint of remorse,” said the little old man. He fidgeted with a bowler hat in his lap.
“Well, audience?” asked the game-show host.
Bleep. Bloop. Blorp.
The host gestured towards a digital display. “The numbers are overwhelming, audience says... exterminator.”
The little old man’s lips twitched into a smile beneath his white, walrusy mustache. He chuckled and nodded. Lifted himself from the chair, and shuffled towards the exit.
“Next up on Name that Profession: I like big butts and I cannot lie.” The host winked at the cameras. “Stay tuned.”
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