Wife: Have you seen the finger guard for this thing? Slicing without it makes me nervous.
Husband: No, but don't worry about it. I'll slice the potatoes when I'm done with this.
Wife: (picking up a large washed and peeled potato) I can do it alright so long as it's a big potato. (Begins using the mandolin to slice the potato for potato chips).
Wife: (examining the chips she has sliced) Shoot. These are too thick. They won't be very crispy. (Turns dial down to make slices thinner) Are you sure you haven't seen the finger guard? I'm getting close.
Husband: No, but just wait and I'll do it.
Wife: (slicing quickly because clearly, she found her groove and can do no wrong) EXPLETIVE! (begins jumping up and down) My finger! I lost my finger!
Husband: (turns to her in a panic, then to the counter top, presumably to find the missing finger bit) Where?! Are you OK?
Wife: (looking at finger, notices a not small chunk is missing from the tip of her right index finger) OK, I didn't loose it, but I can't look at it anymore. I have to lie down. What if I'd left it on the thick setting? This could be much uglier. We need to clean the baseboards in here like whoa.
(Husband brings tissues and wife lays on kitchen floor, holding finger in tissue above her head. Husband returns to mandolin to ensure no finger parts will be on the menu and to finish slicing chips. Her view:)
(After the husband has chopped and fried the potato chips, the wife slowly gets up and tries a potato chip. She smiles in approval, knowing that at least her digit-mangling resulted in a tasty batch of spicy sweet potato chips.)
Seriously, people, this is not, could not be a work of fiction. Typing is slow going up in here.
Lesson: either find the damn finger guard or wait for a pro to step in. Impatience for fried foods maims.
The 9.5 Finger Bandit