[b][center][h3]The Rat Reaper[/h3][/center][/b]

The black van pulled up outside the three story old townhouse, the logo on the side of the van looked menacing. The face of the grim reaper, a scythe visible above its head. Its hands raised menacingly over the emboldened words 'Rat Reaper'. Those on the street looked at the van with apprehension, words had been spoken about the Rat Reaper, he was meant to be the best pest-control in the city. Though nobody knew his methods, only that he was a grey. The rat reaper wasn't just good. The old woman had been peering out the curtains, so came down the moment she saw the van pull up. Hobbling her way down the steps, just as a man stepped out of the van. Wearing green/grey coveralls, an orange utility vest and with wide-square rimmed glasses. Pulling a cap onto over his mess of blonde hair, he cracked a toothy smile. Causing the woman to pause momentarily in her tracks. The contrast between the design on the van, and the boy before her stopping her in her tracks.

"Uh-Simon the Rat Reaper?"

Simon pushed his glasses back from where they had slid down his nose. "I-uh-I-uh... I actually prefer [i]Rat Technician.[/i]" He didn't look her in the eye as he spoke, looking down at his clipboard the whole time. As if trying to read from a script, but he knew the words. He didn't [i]like[/i] all the words, but his father told him to say them all, but his father wasn't here. "You're booked in for a uh, a-um."

"Removal?"

He smiled politely as he looked at her for the first time. "Exactly!" 

"So what do you need from me?"

"I see you've uh-you've-um-already-uh."

"Paid?"

"Yes!"

Simon smiled and then handed over a pen, and the paperwork to the nice-old lady. "I-uh-just need you to sign. Then give me twenty minutes alone in your house."

"I don't know-"

"This is why uh, if you checked when you booked, for me to uh, come then you had to agree, by checking the box on the application that you uh-"

A young blonde woman came out of the door, and Simon had to suddenly become very interested in his shoes and their condition. "Yes Grandma, you knew that you'd have to step out. I'm sorry-" She offered a hand to shake, and he took it gently and politely. She had very nice soft hands. 

"S-S-Simon."

"-Simon, she did so know. We're going out for lunch."

They finished their paperwork, they showed Simon where the infestation was. He tried not to get too distracted by her pretty face, and the sweet smell that seemed to radiate from her. He couldn't let it distract him too much, his dad told him. Never mix romance and business, it never worked. It got you a bad reputation, but then his reputation wasn't incredible anyway. People knew he was a grey, and thought he was some kind of freak. Sometimes it made him upset, people only ever seemed to have time for him when they needed something. He had a job to do, and he'd just get on with it.

Simon stood in the middle of the room as he heard the door close, and with a click, it locked. Out of his box of belongings he pulled a plastic crate, unfolding it it clicked until it formed a reasonably large box, the door left ajar. Sitting on the floor he closed his eyes, and he called. His voice, inaudible to anyone passing the building. To a small rodent, it was a call. Come here, come to me and it wasn't long until he heard the tell-tale pitter patter of little rodent feet. They piled into the box without complaint, he closed the door. Covered it up with a cloth and once the homeowners returned he packed them into his van and left.

Another happy customer.