Taking The Top Off A Boiled Egg

Great show yesterday kid.
The highlight of the show was Mr Coyle's extensive monologue on how to decapitate the oval object which shoots out of a hen's bum like a discarded artillery shell.
I employed a complicated manoeuvre which involved swivelling my neck, focusing my eyes and suddenly, Tommy my cat sprang into sharp focus. I put my finger down my throat, plucked my vocal chords like a guitar string and said,
"Tommy, how do YOU cut the top off your boiled egg?"
Tommy, who could talk about eggs until the cows roost said, "When you talk about hot,boiled eggs,you talk of a dangerous task which should be approached with extreme caution. First," said Tommy, "I don heat resistant gloves. I then remove the egg from the hot, boiling H2o with a wooden spoon. Then, I cup the hot egg in my heat resistant gloves and sprint three miles to McGinty's sawmill. Mr McGinty, who is a dear friend of mine,then saws the top off my egg with a huge, circular saw. I then make my way home," said Tommy, "stopping to talk and shoot the breeze with policemen, traffic wardens and the men who are building a veritable labyrinth of peace walls across this fair city. When I get home my boiled egg is as cold as a witch's zit, so I chop some onions, get out the mayonnaise and make myself a sandwich."
I gazed at Tommy in wonder and awe.
"Tommy!" I yelled. "I take my hat off to you. You have just informed me and indeed the world the correct way to take the top off a boiled egg. You have made Mr Coyle look like a man who lacks breeding, gumption and education in the boiled egg department. Just one more question Tommy, do you like a runny egg in the morning?"
"Not under any circumstances!" roared Tommy. "The last thing I want to do in the morning is set off in hot pursuit after a run-a-way egg."
I looked at Tommy. Tommy looked at me. We both knew one of us was buck stupid, but as yet, neither of us was able to point an accusing finger.