So I was on a date right, and the bird says my breath smell like her cat’s asshole. It’s a fucking shame too because she was finer than powdered sugar and her tits were twice as sweet. So I give her the finger, though not in the way I’d like, and I tell her she don’t have to put her mouth on my lips but if she wants a ride home she’ll put ‘em somewhere. She gets out of the car and leaves me to drive home with a pair of cobalt blue Jacobs.
First thing I did after giving my Willie a good pull was brush my teeth right thorough. I was scrubbing away like you wouldn’t believe, really giving it the old elbow grease when I felt this pain. Now I’m no stranger to pain, am I? Mouth like mines more like to get punched than kissed but I’ve never felt anything like this before. It was like someone shoved a bit of hot iron up through my tooth, into my rotting skull and tried to pop my eye out from the back end.
So I get on the horn right, and I’m trying to tell them I’ve just gone and lobotomized myself with a fucking toothbrush. Fucking nurse basically tells me to stop being such a vagina and make an appointment with a dentist in the morning. I calmly reply with a few choice words to make sure she understands my discomfort and the bitch hangs up on me. So now I’m rolling on the floor, fucking languishing from the pain of it when I remember there’s a few old Oxies rattling around in my bedside. I was in this pub on new years making a bit of headway with this woman in a miniskirt when she goes and pukes. Seeing a lost cause, I snagged the pills out of her bag for me effort. I was saving ‘em for a raining day but just then it was fucking shirting.
I woke up the next morning around noon with a splitting headache and a thirst to match. I fished around the cupboards and found half a bottle of Canadian Club hiding behind the Cheerios. Popping the cork feels good. I sat with it for a minute before I got on the horn to call the dentist. I tell them it’s a bleeding emergency and I need it taken care of yesterday, right?
Now this fellow, he’s right civil. He booked me in right away and even offered to call a cab to bring me in. I told him I appreciated the thought but I ain’t made of money. So I took another swig of the old club and then hightailed it over there. From the front door to the surgery chair, everyone seemed real nice. They said ‘this way sir’ and ‘how are you feeling sir?’ and ‘don’t worry sir, we’ll have that old rotter out of your head in no time.’ I felt like the bloody king, didn’t I?
So they gave me the gas and the room got all wonky. Everything’s spinning and the dental assistant came strolling up with my chart. She was wearing one of those surgical masks but nothing’s masking her chest and she’s got some out of this world tits. Tits you wouldn’t believe. Tits that looked kind of familiar when I came to think of it. Then the room went dark.
I woke up and the pain was still there. Worse, actually. My whole mouth was bloody throbbing. I looked about and saw the dental assistant. She wasn’t wearing her mask anymore. Instead she was wearing this giant grin. I tried to feel for the missing tooth but all I felt was gums. Two full rows of gums and one miserable rotten tooth.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We took care of those problem teeth. You might want to get an Altoid at the corner shop though, you’re breath still smells like my cat’s asshole.”