I can remember vacationing in northwest Michigan, up near Traverse City, one summer when I was about 13. We were camping and doing a lot of fishing, my four younger brothers and my parents, and, one day, I caught a 36-inch northern pike along with various other fish. When we brought it ashore and were cleaning it, my father cut its head off and it went into the "guts" pail. My 11-year old brother started poking at the pike head in the pail and touched something that he shouldn't have. The pike's mouth and teeth snapped shut on two of his fingers and he took off running, screaming and waving his hand around, with the pike's head clamped onto it.
He was cut up pretty good, but I still laugh out loud when I think of it or tell the story. I just sat there laughing my ass off while he went screaming around the camp.
Back in the 70’s my younger brother caught a big catfish in the Grand River, west of Grand Rapids Michigan. I told him I would cook it if he cleaned it. It took a pair of large pruning hooks to cut the head off and it proceeded to keep walking along the pavement. When my brother finished and put the edible part of the fish in the sink he was as white as a sheet.