There's such a dark undercurrent that runs through every kitchen I've ever frequented (and is probably why I keep going back), but professional bakers...
Bakers are somethin' else.
If most kitchen denizens delight in being analogous representatives of bright, slickey slaughter, bakers stand in for the darker, stickier blood, the next-day's-leftover stuff that's still thick and viscous by the bed, even after buckets of hot water and heavy scrubbing, ever ever after.
I think it may have something to do with...aw, jeezus, with a buncha stuff.
Like working day after day with egregious, brashly joyous celebrants of carnage who obviously would never in a million years have the patience and meticulousness to gracefully, mercifully kill another living being.
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