An encounter with a pest exterminator

It all started when the missus was stung by a gang of hornets who had set up shop on the small balcony that doubles up as our garden. My wife, never the most talkative of women at the best of times, became completely silent after being stung. From then on, she started communicating only in sign language, which looking back, was not a bad thing. Anyway, since it was bad form to have a steadily-growing hornet hive next to the living room, I decided to call in a local pest exterminator to eliminate it.
A cheerful-sounding person answered the phone and promised to come as early as possible to see to the problem. The exterminator turned out to be a jolly, round chap who introduced himself as "Waran" (pronouncing it as "Warren"). "Rather a funny name for a Tamilian," I thought to myself. Then he told me that his actual name was Easwaran and that he had cut his name down to make it easier for the local Chinese to pronounce it.
Waran took one look at the hive and went into battle mode. "This one is huge," he pronounced, looking a bit like a hunter who had come across a lion when he was expecting only a squirrel. "We have to be very careful," he continued. "Only last month I was stung by hornets. My head became as swollen as a watermelon, you know. Very, very dangerous. How did your wife survive?"
I told Waran about the missus becoming dumb as a result of the stings and he admitted that this was a by-product that he had observed in some cases. But he added that he could speak better after he was stung - so there was no hard-and-fast correlation between hornet stings and speaking capabilities, he seriously noted.
Waran then swiftly took out a long stick from his small bag (how he hid it inside the bag, I have no idea) and attached a canister to the end of it. "This is a spray that only I am licensed to use in the whole of Singapore," he explained. "The next few moments are going to be crucial." He closed the balcony door till only a small slit was showing and then started to profusely spray the hive. A few surprised hornets charged out looking for the source of the unhealthy liquid drops and promptly discovered that it was the end of their earthly careers. The hive started to disintegrate and Waran, much encouraged by the proceedings, pumped in some more liquid into the hive.
Suddenly, in the middle of the massacre, Waran's mobile rang. "Yes, Ultimate Pest Control speaking," he answered. "Sorry, madam, you have a what in your sink? A snake? Rather a longish one, you say? Not to worry. Help is at hand. It must be a python. They love to squeeze their victims to death. Apart from that habit, they are pretty harmless. Or it could be a cobra, in which case I need to come there faster. Don't panic. Just close the kitchen and wait for my arrival. I am in the middle of an extermination here."
Nonchalantly, Waran sprayed some more liquid into our rapidly-disappearing hive and then issued a warning: "One hornet has escaped. He will be very aggressive. Wait for 55 hours before you open the balcony door." Why 55 hours, I wanted to ask him. Why not 60? Why not 50? Anyway, before I could ask him this crucial question, Waran was gone, off to his next rendezvous with irritating fauna.