Some woman is walking down the road.
"Duck eggs." She says to me.
I look mildly concerned at her.
"Duck eggs," she repeats, "do you like them?"
Feeling mildly pressurised into answering in the affirmative, I nod slowly and she thrusts a box into my hand.
"Duck eggs." She explains and points up the road.
"Don't tell Ernie." She threatens.
I shake my head solemnly and seriously as if it would be the last thing on my mind to tell the infamous Ernie.
She continues on her way down the road.
The missus arrives home from work sometime later. I hand her the box. "Duck Eggs," I inform her, "don't tell Ernie".
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