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Return to Scribblers and Ink Spillers Home Page by Jude Tulli Well, look who's here! What are we doing for you today? A cleaning? No, of course not. You wouldn't need me here for that, would you? Too much holiday candy, I bet. How bad is it? Let's have a look. Open wide. Wider. A liiiiiitle wider. Wonderful. "Oooh ahhh Ooo?" Wait just a minute, the tooth fairy left me an open-mouth dialect translation book. Let's see. . .Oooh ahhh ahhh? Oooh ahhh eee? Oooh ahhh uuuts! Oooh ahhh kiii ooo! Oooh ahhh neba coma hee gai. Oooh ahhh ooo! There it is! Who am I?! Really? Must you toy with my emotions every time we meet? I didn't expect an answer, dear, it was rhetorical. Besides, this dictionary's heavy and my time is better spent undoing the decaying handiwork of sugar and its ubiquitous evil henchman, plaque. Looks like you waited quite a while past 2:30 to make an appointment, yes? Get it? Tooth-hurty?! No, no, no, now you're just laughing out of politeness. It's all right, it's an old joke. Anyway, don't let me shame you about the premature deterioration of your teeth; I'm not a dentist. Turns out just perfect for our purposes today. See, I'm interning with the tooth fairy and we're in a bit of a lull for pillow exchanges so she sent me to find out for myself where the teeth come from and help drum up business at the same time. I blame myself. I should never have asked, "Where do all these teeth come from?" So here I am; nothing to be done for it now. Just raise your hand if you feel any pain while I start poking around with this hook. If I follow the halitosis, it should be most excruciating right. . .about. . .here? Oh, mercy me! I'm better at this than I thought! No, no, no, I didn't mean to make you jump out of the chair there, but you must understand my excitement after so much training. The Fae-Doe® brand Root-n-Loot model patients give so little feedback when you drill and yank their little clay-molded teeth. No, the sad truth is they give none at all. I blame the Marxist amendment. Why the blank stare? You know, the one that says you have the right not to speak but to honk a horn and make jokes with visual punch-lines. What's that? "Oooh een aaacks botters?" Oh, nevermind I'm not going to look it up now that I've found the problem. Tooth number forty-two hurts when I do this, yes? All right, you don't have to scream. I already knew it was hurting. String, string, where do they keep the string? Oh, here's some. Yes, I know it's usually used for kites, but we'll just spray it with some antiparasitic lotion and it'll all be copaseptic. What do you mean, "Aaas nahhh aaord?" Of course it's a word, it means anti--septi--cisionally. . .here bite down on some cotton for a sec. Cottonmouth! Cottonmouth! Run! Get it, like the venomous snake (not a mamba, though. I'm fully aware you've been negatively conditioned with them, even if only on a subconscious level, so I'm trying not to mention mambas in your presence unless there's just no avoiding the subject). On the contrary, I think this is the perfect time for laughter. You know what they say, laughter is the best placebo. Oh dear, do you always convulse like that when you laugh? I won't mention mambas again, honest. "Ahhh ahhh oooo ooooiii?" What do you think I'm ooooiii? I'm tying this end of the string to the doorknob, and this end to your tooth. No, no, no, don't try to talk I have to remember how to make a nerve slipknot. You don't want the pain to linger, now, do you? If you'd have let me guide the tour through my hometown you would have experienced the most tranquil beach this side of Troll Grove. I would describe it to you now and even though you wouldn't remember, the words alone would render you completely impervious to pain. Life so seldom turns out the way we plan though, doesn't it? There! All right, just sit tight and we'll wait for someone to walk through that door and answer all your dental prayers. Yes, sweetheart, they call it a "kee-shay" because it works! Cliché is just the derogatory term for "classic", if you really think about it. My, but I don't hear anyone stirring down the hall, do you? I'd settle for even a mouse because it's a good example of classic when it comes to creatures stirring, but I doubt one could pull on the doorknob with such little paws. Not hard enough to do much good in the tooth extraction department anyway. Want some headphones while we wait? Beethoven's on an endless loop. He didn't even care about the royalties, he just wants everyone to bask in the radiance of his genius. I don't blame him at all. Hmm. . .this seems a bit passive, doesn't it? Maybe we can speed this up a bit if I step out to powder my wings. HEY! It won't do any good for me to open the door now that you've freed your aching tooth from the little noose I made for it. I don’t suppose there's a hammer and chisel in any of these drawers here. Oh, stop squirming! A supersonic "Ow!" now and then the healing can begin or a little thorn-in-the-mouth constant pain for the rest of your life. Those are your choices. How'd you get yourself into this mess, anyway? Says here in your chart the tooth fairy was impressed with the condition of your baby teeth. Tsk tsk tsk. I know, some people just outdo themselves at practice and then have nothing left to offer on the day of the big game. Honestly, when your teeth deserve better than the care you give them, they start packing up their gumption for that Grail-grinding gumline in the sky. They say there's no decay in Toothie Heaven. Well, ought to be, since the winds there double as invisible floss. Cinnamon flavored, too! And really, haven't your choppers suffered enough in their lives here on earth? If I've seen it once, I've seen it. . .at least once. People (and by "people" I mean "you") take their teeth for granted until it's too late. Then they complain that they miss corn on the cob and apples on the core and tofu ribs on the bone. I'm kidding; everyone knows they debone tofu fresh at the slaughterhouse. Bet you're wishing you'd wished that wish about the teeth never needing to be cleaned about now. It's a good wish. Should be a cliché, if you ask me. Though honestly we couldn't always accommodate it. What are you trying to say, dearie? I seem to have misplaced the dictionary altogether now. You want to give me something? Oh, that's all right, you don't have to pay until it goes through your insurance. Oh dear, that's not money, that's. . .how did all of your teeth fall out? Wasn't anything I'm aware that I did; at least not today. Well, every missing tooth has a nickel-plated lining. At a buffalo apiece you're looking at half a small latte. I'm kidding you again; the going rate is a dollar a tooth or more these days. If I'm still on assignment you can expect a serious windfall under your pillow when you wake up tomorrow morning. Uh oh, I think your anesthesia must wearing off. I can tell you can't see me anymore because you've stopped with the backtalk. I'm not sure you could have chosen a worse time. But then again, I've come to expect that sort of curséd synchronicity from you. Oh, whew, you just dreamed you lost all your teeth! The tooth fairy will be glad to hear you won't be putting a permanent dent in her budget after all. But the dentist--I'm pretty sure she's a dentist from the plaque on the wall--is still wiggling your number 42. Oh, sweetie, yelling doesn’t become you. Ooh, poor dear, just raise your hand until she stops. . .digging really should be an activity limited to dirt and secrets, don't you think? Let her know you're awake now! Don’t wait to scare everyone else with your surgical horror story on the evening news. Well congratulations, the operation is a success! Wish I could say I was any help at all but unlike your wizened little molar there I don't think I'm cut out for this line of work. Sigh. The tooth hurts. END Come back next month for something surprisingly unfairylike. Copyright 2010 Jude Tulli This website and all its contents are Copyright 2009-2010 Scribblers and Ink Spillers, LLC. No copying in whole or in part is allowed. You may link to this page. |