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My name is Vinnie Garibaldi, and I run a company called Giustefrant Hangers. We manufacture wire hangers, and as we like to say around here, "If you're looking for a hanger, it's Giustefrant." I'm writing to you not because I want to use your service, but because I wish to create another one like it. You see, I'm a very organized man from my sock drawer, to my CD collection, to my crime. I like the way your site makes it easy for people to find people. And currently that's what I'm all about. Finding people. Except I don't want to set people up with people for the intent to find love, but with motherfucking, no good, disloyal rats to exercise a little pest control.
You see, rats are a problem. Mice aren't. They're timid. They're scared of you. When the heat's on, they might scurry into a little hole that you can smoke them out of or throw a grenade in, but they won't turn on you and bite back like a rat. The business venture I'm proposing is a website which posts information about rats that are in need of exterminating.
The world is a big place. Back in the day, if you had a rat amongst you, and they suddenly disappeared, you could bet 9 times out of 10 that they'd turn up in Florida, laying low somewhere. Tracking them down was like shooting fish in a barrel, setting the barrel in cement, then throwing it off a pier into the Atlantic. It was easy because the rats would be running scared and they'd leave a trail of their droppings. You'd sic the pitbulls on them, and voila, no more rat. It's a different game nowadays. These rats feel cornered. They try to find their way out and they enter some rat relocation program with a government organization like the ASPCA to create new rat names and new rat lives in new rat environments for these pieces of living, betraying filth.
The service I'm proposing would hook up rats with ummm... animal control experts. It would contain all the information possible on a specific rat such as their name, last known whereabouts, shady associates, and the desired method of disposing of them. When it comes to this sort of problem, it's agreed amongst the animal control expert community that the death of the rat in question is not only a physical issue, but that there are certain ramifications involved that require a symbolic gesture to get a message out to other rats, or would-be rats that might be attempted to undergo rat-reassignment surgery like those weirdo guys that electively go eunuch and then have to drink estrogen like a cop on the take drinks shots at the bar.
So with the information on the website, should an independent contract rat-catcher or just some schmoe who wants the reward money listed decide to go hunting, they'd be doing themselves and us a favor, plus it would be easier to track these rats over every friggin inch of the globe. Now, I don't want this site to necessarily lead to a bloodbath for the entire ring-tailed rodent species, so each rat will also be given a ranking of exactly how ratty they are and what evidence they is to support this. Sometimes a rat is only a stool pigeon. Rats with wings, right? They might be hard to tell apart. This is where the symbolic gestures come in. After a known, 100% cold-blooded rat is dealt with, it's important for others to know this, so you take a smaller rat and shove it head first in his mouth. Now if you off a stool pigeon, you shove a piece of his own stool in his mouth that he probably excreted while you were hunting him down. If there's room left (but they're usually isn't because these snitches are full of shit), throw a pigeon in there too.
So that's what my little rat removal site entails. Pun intended. You better be laughing at my jokes. I'm sure you'll be interested in taking on this project. Everyone's always interested in taking on my projects. It's actually more of a superstitious thing. You see, companies and individuals who haven't taken on my projects before have found themselves having incredibly bad luck, with the arson, and the explosions. Actually, a guy in the Middle East was about to sell me some MAJOR rat extermination firepower for a friend to resell to a street gang in LA. He backed out of the deal with me recently because he was worried about weapons inspectors and such. Excuses, excuses, excuses. He's going to be getting tremendous bombing raids up his ass soon. I've got friends in high places. I also have high friends in places pushing H if you want in on that action.
Anyhoo, I'll make you an offer that you can't refuse (that line's so ironic when it comes from my business associates in waste management),