The Exterminator

‘Look at them,’ he stared through the glass at the crawling mass, disgust creasing his face. ‘Filthy vermin. Diseased, dirty creatures. Despoiling all our food supplies…’
The neatly attired exterminator suppressed an irritated sigh at so much excessive melodrama, ‘Don’t you fear, sir, we’ll get rid of this,’ he indicated the pests below them with a dismissive flap of his hand, ‘…this infestation, in no time.’
‘Oh?’ the man turned hopefully to the exterminator.
‘Oh yes, sir. Eichmann and Heydrich have come up with what you might call a final solution to your ‘rat’ problem.’
The men laughed companionably, content.