Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.
A dirty, scruffy van pulled up outside a small house, it's brakes squealing as it screeched time a stop - bumping the red sports car that was park outside out of place.
The van was a silver colour with bold, black letters displayed on the sides to show what kind of business it was owned by.
TERMINATOR PEST CONTROL
As the door to the driver's seat open, a tall figure stepped out. He was clad in a black jacket with his eyes covered by a pair of shades. He could pass for a really cool human - when in fact he was a robot from the future!
Making his way to the rear of the van, the Terminator opened the back doors to pull out the equipment he needed for his job. He lifted it out to clutch it tightly in his hands, ready to use it inside the house.
It was a large pistol.
With a stern, determined expression on his face, the Terminator slammed the van doors shut before making his way up to front door of the house. He stood on the doorstep, grasping his weapon firmly in one hand as he rang the bell with the other.
The door instantly opened. A pretty young woman stood there inside the house. She looked relieved when she saw the figure who had just arrived.
"You're here! Thank heavens!" she cried. "Get rid of this pest as quick as you can!"
"So me the way to the vermin," the Terminator commanded, heavily pronouncing each syllable of his words.
The woman retreated through the house, leading her guest hastily towards what she wanted him to deal with. The Terminator followed, his finger twitching as it circled around the trigger of the weapon.
The woman strode to the corner of her kitchen before pointing up frantically up towards the ceiling. "There! Up there!"
The Terminator stood beside her as he peered up towards what she was pointing at. His robotic eyes adjusted his vision to allow him to see the gruesome pests he was to eliminate.
A large web had been strung across the corner of the ceiling. In the middle of it sat a fat, ugly tarantula. She was snacking on a feast of dead flies she had caught in her silky lair. She had really made herself right at home in the woman's house - despite paying no rent.
"That spider has been hanging around here for weeks!" cried the woman. "Get rid of it! Please!"
"Right!" the Terminator barked. "Stand back! Leave it to me!"
The woman didn't need telling twice. She disappeared quickly into her lounge, leaving the Terminator to deal with the eight-legged monster.
Once she he was alone with the tarantula, the Terminator stared up towards her, his mind set on his mission to destroy her.
"It is time for you to be terminated!"
The Terminator raised his gun and pointed it straight towards the large spider, his finger tightening around the trigger.
"Hasta la vista, baby!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The woman jumped where she was sitting inside the lounge as she heard gunshots erupting from the kitchen. She bit her lip as she listened to the loud, awful noise. She hoped the pest controller didn't fire too many bullet holes into her walls - or smash any of her china plates.
As the gunfire died down, the Terminator appeared in the kitchen doorway. His expression was as bleak as always.
"Well?!" The woman exclaimed impatiently.
"Mission accomplished." The Terminator answered, blowing on the end of his fun before pocketing the weapon. "Pest eliminated!"
"Oh, finally!" The woman sighed in relief - not showing the slightest hint of gratitude towards the robot who had dealt with the intrusive creature. "You don't know how glad I am to see that spider go! Now I don't have to look at that hideous thing every time I go into the kitchen to wash up!"
The Terminator stared blankly. Then he held out his hand towards the lady he had just given his services to.
"Oh..." The woman's face fell, realising she was expected to pay for the job the pest control had just carried out for her. "Right..."
"I need you to pay up!"
"Yeah...well, you see...the thing is..." A sheepish look crossed the woman's face. "I don't have any money to pay you!"
The Terminator's expression didn't change. He lowered his hand as he gazed towards the woman, giving no indication of what he was thinking over what she had just claimed.
"I would pay you - but unfortunately, I'm very poor!" The woman tried pitifully to look sorry as she smiled at the one she expected to work for her for nothing. "How about just doing this good deed for me for free?! I'll tell all my friends what a good service you do!"
The Terminator was having none of it. He turned his gaze slowly towards the window of the lounge. He could see something through it that told him the woman wasn't poor at all.
Something that would make very fine pay indeed.
"I like your car..."
The woman blinked, puzzled by the remark the pest controller had just made. As he was just making his way out of the house, it suddenly occurred to her what he was planning - leading to an ghat horrified look to cross her face.
"No!" she cried, racing quickly after him through the front door. "No, you can't take that! That's my husband's car!"
The horrified lady farted out of her house - to find the Terminator was now sat in the seat of her husband's sports car. He had managed to get the engine started and was preparing to use it to drive away.
"Stop!" The woman screamed. "Don't take my husband's car! I'll pay you however much you want! I just can't pay you right now!"
The Terminator took hold of his shades, lowering them down to reveal his narrowed robotic eyes. He sent a threatening expression towards the woman, indicating he expected to get his pay from her soon.
"I'll be back..."
With that said, the Terminator put his foot down on the gas pedal. He left the shock woman far behind as he left her house, driving her husband's sports car off into the sunset.