I wonder if Earl Grey Green was of a delicate constitution. Perhaps he'd always really enjoyed culinary adventures, but after suffering through the aftermath countless times, he decided thenceforth to play it a bit closer to the vest.
Perhaps his cousin, the better known Earl Grey, always gave him a hard time. When he'd visit, he'd always clap Earl Grey Green on the back, as if in camaraderie, but just hard enough to knock the younger lad off balance. Beneath the ostensible good humor, that sharp, thin line of sadism was ever so visible, if you knew where to look, maybe.
Perhaps Earl Grey Green began carrying a heavy rock in his pocket. One with some sharp edges, maybe, but mostly just heavy. Heavy enough to get the job done.
You know, just in case.