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.