Hiram was having much success with his egg farm, raising extra-large and jumbo eggs right from the ground. But one morning, he woke to find his crop all cracked, with half-cooked egg white and runny yolks all over the soil.
So he replanted the field, the eggs started growing, and all was fine until, again, one morning, all was cooked and cracked.
So he replanted a third time, and he told his oldest son, “I think I know what’s going on. Tonight we’ll hide in the fields and see for ourselves.”
Hiram and Hiram Jr. did just that: hidden behind some bushes, they camped out overnight and watched the egg field. Just after midnight, three men stole into the field and, with giant canisters, began pouring boiling water all over the eggs.
“Just as I suspected,” Hiram whispered to his son. “Poachers.”