Guests and such
After the cleaning is done I would put on the marinara. A good sauce can take hours to stew. I would make two kinds, one with the finest of sausage--the fat slowly leaking out into the tomatoes and impregnating the spices with fatty joy and also a vegetarian sauce, just in case i've invaded a house of homos or haris.
While the sauce is cooking, I'd sit down for a rest and watch Oprah. Perhaps I'd make some tea if they have green tea, which is what Ho prefers. The Japanese really have it down where tea is concerned.
At around 5 o'clock I would mix the martinis. A double traditional for the man and a cosmo for the women. Cosmos are pretty but they taste like shit. They also pull your balls up into your abdomen so they are best avoided, gentlemen.
I would hand off the drinks and quickly usher them to the prepared table and sit them down. We would discuss their day and that retard feeding tube girl and we'd laugh and laugh about how the pope also has a feeding tube and the similarities and how we're all going to hell for thinking about that.
After dinner I would do the dishes while they watched TV and got ready for bed. I would tuck them in with a gentle kiss on the brow and an unintentional grope of the Mrs. saying, "Oh, sorry young miss, was that your boob? It was very soft and firm, but surely I did not mean to grope you."
We would laugh about the mishap. Not her husband though. He can be a real bastard sometimes.
After I heard their rythmic sleep sounds I would steal all of the good things. The money, the pron and the rest of the vodka, but not the cranberry juice, no. Not that. I mean, a fair day's labor for a fair day's pay, that's what I say.