Bug bombs, a chemical agent for "fumigating out the pests of your home or work place" were quite a toxic agent. Not much difference from what was used in the fields of France in 1917 save for saturation. Which was why Circe has ensured there were gasmasks at the entrance to Funderlands' tunnels after they'd been used. It was just safety. Something her attire, a cleanup suit, would imply she was taking overly seriously.


The literal coveralls she had on over her disposable work clothes were not however a professional grade for safety. They looked the part, but were actually a Halloween outfit. She'd checked the instructions, given it an extra couple of days, there shouldn't be any residue that would require this level of safety.


There should however be plenty of dead bugs, reptiles, and rodents in various states of decay or filth to collect and trash. The Halloween costume was cheap, could absorb some of that filth, and then be trashed without concern. Shovel, wheel barrow, gloves, a battery powered shop vac, and heavy duty garbage bags should do it. But she had something to check first.


The Wine Cellar.


The vacuum helps with the dead roaches along the way, shovel for rats. And monitor lizards. She'd found two on the way. Maybe she should skin them to get the lizard hide for a belt? They got their own bag just in case.


Circe was glad that her lights helped show the shit she needed to clean up on the way. Better? The line of animal repelling peppers and stuff she'd put across the speakeasy's new door wasn't too broken up. Something got in, great! Opening the doors revealed the culprit. A dead monitor lizard that'd puked its lungs up all over the stairs. Bag it into the wheel barrow with the other three monitor lizards she'd found. Might make a belt at this rate.


Sweeping the area she finds no more large vermin to collect. And the wine basement? The tarp and cover plate are both still present. No intruders and no seepage of gas tainting the wine. Hooray, it was still safe to trade or serve to the Freehold.


Good times. The rat filled garbage bag makes a sloshing noise with a pop as she starts moving the wheel barrow back to search for more corpses. And hey, she didn't even need to worry about washing off the decayed bodily fluids staining the suit! "Preparation H for hard work, feel pretty good on the hole, oh ho ho ho ho! Uuuugh, it stinks down here though, fanculo! Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo, questi bastardi di merda di parassiti puzzano!"