When I was young, we went to the country. I was given a fishing rod and told to rip worms in half, as half was all that was needed for the fishing hook.
I ripped a few in half but doing it made me feel bad. My father said, "You're not hurting them. They don't feel pain. Look, they're still moving." And indeed, they were still moving.
If I was ripped in half, I would not be wiggling about. But I didn't like the activity so I shuffled off to the end of the dock with the fishing pole I had been given.
Soon, out of boredom, I cast a bare hook into the clear lake water. Not a minute later, I could see a fish barreling up towards my steel hook, looking to get a bite of it.
Frantically, I started reeling in the hook as fast as I could in order to avoid having to kill, what was clearly, the dumbest fish in this lake.
The hook made it out of the water in time and I never cast a line again. But since then, I've eaten lots of delicious fish.