If earlier Duke hadn’t been hurled to an apocalyptic parallel world and escaped it with Amity, there were moments during Ed’s explanation that he would have gotten up, stopped listening, and washed the dishes, certain that all this was bushwa. Instead he remained at the table with a coffee mug in hand, in front of a plate on which a residue of egg congealed, and gradually he listened less for lies and more like a child sitting with his troop around a campfire in an eerie wilderness.
Duka a simple guy who needs structure and not given to flights of fantasy
