The main thing that comes to mind with the sausages is of fans throwing them at each other when the local football team (I was living in Thüringen) was 3-0 up at half-time against some hated rival, who they needed to beat to avoid relegation. A German sausage envy bratwurst spat!
I don't know, reesetee. I can't seem to rise to the occasion. My mind has gone flaccid, my imagination soft. I feel like a limp dishrag, like too-old celery. This impotence is killing me. I wish I could harden my resolve, steel my nerves, and burst forth with a clever rejoinder.