He snorts. Even if the Handler isn't exactly sure what it's supposed to mean in the context of this place, it's easy enough to figure out what it means when he looks at his life as a whole. He looks Alistair up and down, as if gauging whether he's going to call him crazy and run out into the forest if he tells his former trade to the young man.

"For the most part, I handle idjits who are stupid enough to want to join the profession." He'll leave 'the profession' vague, at least for now. "Folks call me up and ask me to do any number o'things for them -- usually lying to authority-types so that they can get access to the things they need to in order to do their job." He clears his throat.

"You know, saving people. Killing monsters." And yes, he's going to leave out 'the Family Business' from that little speech. He's no Winchester, and he didn't have any family ties to Hunting.