Fog curled around the horn as...

picking up the phone, from out of the ether the words hung in the heavy air...

'Got a queue out he door and down the hill have you Harley?'

'Fraid not!'

'Well, if this doesn't open peoples' eyes to not patronising their local butcher 
I don't know what will!'
 huffed the free-range, organic ogre!'

' I want steak for a red-hot Valentine date with Hubs: what's particularly good at the mo?'

Over the wires crackled...

'Sirloin!'

'Good Oh! please can you cut me two for tomorrow and my man will pick them up in the morning?'

'Will do!'

'Thank you!'

The line clicked and the job was a good un.

No names no pack drill!