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One night, back in the days when I worked as a waiter, my favorite table had a game going on. They were trying to come up with words that no one else at the table knew. Feeling confident, I interjected that I would bet my tip, double or nothing, that I could stump them.

The word? Arachibutyrophobia, which is the fear of having one's mouth sealed shut and suffocating from eating peanut butter.

Yeah, I won.