Onions are so mean.
But you know what, if people we’re trying to cut me into delicious little pieces on a daily basis, I’d probably be unfriendly too.
Even so, this little guy gets no sympathy from me. Look at that smirk. He’s like that big kid Ernest, who teased you on the playground in kindergarten and drank your snack-time milk rations. I bet his name is Schadenfreude.