Found a USB Stick Inside a Regular Sausage: At First I Thought It Was an Accident—Until I Checked What Was On It

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Author NoxenReading 3 minViews 1Published by April 9, 2026

Last night, I bought a perfectly ordinary sausage from the corner shopnothing remarkable about it, just fancied making myself a couple of sandwiches. At home, I sliced up a few pieces, ate them, and popped the rest in the fridge. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

It wasnt until this morning, when I decided to make breakfast and pulled out that same sausage, that things started to feel a bit odd. I grabbed a knife and began to cutonly something wasnt quite right. The blade suddenly refused to pass through, as if there was a stone or something frozen inside. I figured, maybe its still a bit too cold from the fridge. But when I tried to cut another slice, the knife jammed abruptly. Peering closer, I glimpsed something gleaming in the middle of the sausage.

At first, I assumed it must be a bit of metal or some stray bit of machine part. Curiosity got the better of me, and poking around, I managed to wiggle free a USB stick. Just an ordinary thumb drive, a few gigabytes in size. An odd wave of disgust rippled through meId already eaten part of that sausage! How could a USB key even end up inside a shop-bought sausage, and not one of the cheap ones?

Yet disgust soon surrendered to fascination. I booted up my computer and plugged in the mysterious stickthen just sat there, frozen, staring at what I saw. I detailed everything in my initial comment below, but honestly, just be a bit careful out there.

There was a single folder on the drive, cunningly titled OPEN ME. When I clicked into it, all I found was one lone photograph. The image showed some grinning man, laughing square at the camera. I was completely dumbfounded.

My mouse slipped from my hand while I gawked at the screen. Was this someones idea of a practical joke? Why on earth would anyone hide a USB stick inside a sausage? Was there some sort of message or just nonsense?

Now Im left wondering whether I ought to ring up the police and report itmaybe have them investigate, or just chuck the whole wretched thing in the bin and try to forget the whole unreal episode as nothing more than a bizarre dream.

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Found a USB Stick Inside a Regular Sausage: At First I Thought It Was an Accident—Until I Checked What Was On It

Grateful to Fate for Our Breakup In her third year at university, Marianne met Nik, quite by chance, when he came to visit his cousin at their student halls. Tall, slim, and handsome, he immediately caught her eye—her heart skipped a beat for reasons she didn’t yet understand. At first, she didn’t quite realise it was love at first sight. “Wow, he’s good-looking,” flashed through her mind as he approached with a smile and offered his hand. “Nik,” he said, nodding slightly. “And you are?” She felt a bit shy. “Marianne…” she replied, meeting his striking blue eyes. He noticed her lovely gaze. After their brief introduction and a friendly conversation, Nik asked as he left, “Marianne, fancy going to the cinema tonight? I’ll come by for you.” “I’d like that,” she answered demurely, trying not to show her excitement. From that night on, they started seeing each other. Nik was three years older, always a gentleman—flowers for every date, thoughtful little gifts now and then. Marianne quickly learned he came from wealth. His father held a senior position at the local council, his mother was an economist. Nik didn’t hide his privileged upbringing, and though Marianne sensed he liked to show off, she brushed it aside. “What about your parents?” he eventually asked. “My parents? Just ordinary country folk—I was born in a village. Dad’s a tractor driver, Mum works at the post office. I love them dearly, they’re such kind and caring people.” He raised his brows. “How do you manage at university? Must be tough on your parents, I doubt they have much spare cash.” “I’m on a scholarship! I worked hard in school to earn my place.” “Impressive. My dad paid my way through uni. Took care of his only son, good man. We have family holidays abroad all the time,” Nik went on. Anyone could see that Nik liked to brag about his family’s money, but lovestruck Marianne paid no mind. She listened intently as he told stories of their big house, impressive guests, and his father’s influential friends. Nik became her entire world; she pictured no life without him. Quietly, she mapped out their future: “Nik and I will marry… two clever children, a boy and a girl,” she mused, dreaming up names. One evening, after agreeing to see a film together, Nik didn’t show. These were the days before mobiles, so Marianne waited anxiously, but he didn’t arrive. Four days later, he finally resurfaced. “What happened? Weren’t you well?” she worried. “It’s nothing. I saw you chatting away with Igor, all smiles.” “We’re in the same study group! We were just talking, that’s all!” she tried to explain. “How am I to know that? You two looked awfully cosy. Probably been seeing each other for ages,” he smirked. “Nik, I’ve told you—there’s no one but you I want.” “Whatever—let’s break up. And don’t come looking for me. I can’t be dealing with a girl who’ll chase after me,” he said, with a mocking edge. The ground seemed to vanish beneath Marianne. She was devastated. She wanted to explain once more, but in the end decided: “No point justifying myself—I’ve done nothing wrong. Why should I beg? If that’s his decision…” She couldn’t fathom why Nik had ended things so coldly. Little did she know, it was her background. Nik’s cousin had told his mother about Marianne. “Pretty and kind, this Marianne, but she’s a country girl, her parents are just farmers,” the cousin laughed, as Nik’s mother’s frown deepened. Storm clouds gathered at home that evening as Nik walked in. “What’s the matter, Mum? What have I done?” “Let’s discuss who you’ve been seeing. A village lass whose parents are paupers? What were you thinking? Drop her—she’s not our sort. What would your father’s friends say? We didn’t raise you for some farmer’s daughter,” she finished, her voice icy. Nik understood, but didn’t know how his mother found out about Marianne. He’d suspected she might react exactly like this, although he genuinely liked Marianne—she was softer, more honest than any posh girl he knew. But he recognised his parents would never accept her. If he didn’t end it, his mother would—and who knew what trouble that would bring. He felt sorry for Marianne. After that, Nik and Marianne never crossed paths again. Slowly, her broken heart healed and she settled down. She finished her degree, found a job in the city. There, a colleague named George noticed her—older by a couple of years, he took an instant liking. Though several of the office women flirted with him, George kept to himself, never rising to their innuendo. He was courteous and kind, nothing more. “One day, may I walk you home after work, Marianne?” he ventured over lunch. She looked surprised. “Are you serious, George?” “Entirely. Why, do you mind?” “Not really… but they say—” “You mean that I’m impossible to flirt with?” he laughed. “Truth is, I noticed you right away. I think we have a lot in common.” They started dating, then married. Both sets of parents chipped in to buy them a flat in the city. Both families helped where they could. Marianne’s dream of a boy and a girl came true—she gave birth to two children, raising them with plenty of love (with help from doting grandparents). George proved to be the best father and husband—devoted to his beautiful wife and children. When their son turned seven and was ready for school, tragedy struck. Marianne’s childhood home burned down, and her parents were lost in the fire. Grief-stricken, she travelled back to the village alone—George was busy with a work inspection that week, so his mother watched the children. “I’ll manage, George, it’s only for a few days… I’ll return straight after the funeral. We can go back together later.” At the market town, Marianne got off the bus. She’d need a taxi for the last leg, or perhaps a lift from a neighbour. Her mum always said villagers could be found by the shop. Approaching the shop, she barely noticed a black BMW. A large, portly man stepped out and came towards her. “You’ve not changed, Marianne—still as lovely as ever. Don’t you recognise me?” She looked closer—it was Nik. “Of course, Nik. Hello.” She hurriedly tried to bring the conversation to a close. Gone was the slender boy she remembered; he’d put on weight and was hardly recognisable. “You’ve changed!” she remarked, surprised. “Yes—got a bit broader. My wife’s cooking is hard to resist. I’ve got two daughters now. What about you—married, kids?” “Yes, I’ve a loving husband and two children. We live in the city. I’m in the village for family reasons,” she mentioned her loss, but Nik didn’t even offer sympathy. He had other things on his mind. “Shall I give you a lift? We could catch up in the café—share a bottle of wine?” “And what about your wife? It isn’t proper for a married man to go drinking with another woman,” she chided. “My wife? Oh, she’s not an obstacle—nothing for her to worry about,” he smirked. “She’s got it easy at home; she’ll cope.” Marianne made her excuses, saying her brother would be picking her up. Left alone, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, God, for letting Nik and I part ways. How cynical he’s become, no respect for his wife, even after she’s given him children—so ungrateful. Nik never truly loved anyone but himself.” Her thoughts turned to George—his warm and gentle eyes, full of love for her and their children. “Thank you, fate, for bringing George into my life,” she said softly. “People say you shouldn’t meet those you once loved—old feelings might resurface. But sometimes, such meetings remind you how lucky you truly are to be with the right person.”