One with everything
At the grocery, in the section for babies and sick people and other folk on odd diets, I find the tofu dogs. They are orange and float in a glass jar, plump radiant wienies floating under glass like Donovan's Intestines.
At the checkout, my cashier turns and shows her friends the jar. They snort, then look at me, look down just slightly sheepishly, then turn and snort again. I say, "Hey, don't laugh!" but I laugh, so they cackle, then my cashier snorts, then reverse snorts to try to stop the snorting. The other two disappear.
At home, my tofu dogs are mushy but not bad with mustard. I eat two and think how at least I wouldn't be afraid to watch them made. Not for the same reasons, anyway.