When I was 9 years old, my older brother opened up a can of those things for lunch. In the old days, those cans were opened with little turn keys that created a sharp strip of metal. The strip was very sharp.
My brother ended up cutting his finger very badly, when I went into the kitchen to see what the hollering was about, I saw the Vienna Sausages lying in the sink covered in blood, and he was screaming bloody murder with blood stains on his tee-shirt.
I thought the sausages in the sink were his fingers, it freaked me out. I could barely eat them before the incident, afterward I couldn’t choke them down for nothing.
Tolerance is the virtue of the man without convictions.
-- Gilbert K. Chesterton