Quite some years back I had round my Sunday lunch table, a young lady just out from South Africa an older man with a very pronounced local accent with other guests. The conversation was very lively and we were all having a great time.
The man, who worked in the countryside started talking about his day. He said, while driving that morning he had accidently killed a pheasant that had run out in front of his bus."
To make matters worse I think he said he should have stopped and picked it up as it would have made a nice, tasty meal.
The room suddenly went very silent and the young girl became quite shocked and white faced at his words. The silence seemed to go on forever but she could not contain herself any more and blurted out “ How can you be so casual about it? you do know that is a person you are speaking about even though he is a peasant.” We realised what she was thinking and all howled with laughter which made her even more angry. As you can imagine it took us quite some time to calm her down but we eventually managed to reassure her that we really weren't that cruel. I don't think pheasants exist in South Africa, she certainly hadn't heard of one. Perhaps she also thought England was still like the medieval days of the story book.
This became our story, always reminisced at future get togethers, much to her annoyance.