“Sergeant, can I be frank?”

“Only if I can be Ernest, sir.”

“A fair point, but in retrospect, perhaps you should be frank, and I shall be earnest.”

“Either way I’m not sure I like the direction this conversation is taking.”

“Now Frank, no need to overreact.”

“Wait, I thought you were being frank, sir.”

“I was, but we switched so now I’m earnest, although this is entirely too silly. I must try to be more professional.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, captain. Anyone would struggle under the circumstances.”

“What? Oh, the duck suit? I should be used to that by now—haven’t been able to take it off since the test.”

“I don’t suppose that was meant to happen, sir.”

“Not at all. I was planning on being a chicken, but all they could find in a pinch was a duck costume. Still, could be worse. Poor Jenkins has spent the last three years dressed as an altar boy.”

“That’s not so bad.”

“Except he’s Jewish, Frank.”

“Hebrew National?”

“No, still British, I believe.”

“Bangers and mash it is then, sir.”