Once or twice a year, a trip is scheduled for the infamous family dentist or tooth miner, as their patients would call them. Sitting the young patient in a recliner that resembles a chair from a Vincent Price horror movie, minus the tie down straps, the illustrious doctor smiles from a yellow nicotine stained set of chompers. “And how are we today?” queried the medically trained professional who doesn’t even know the difference between a singular or plural form of a noun. You are helped up to that chair of torture by a heavy German lady with an Iron Cross hanging from her muscular neck. Fraulein Helga was her name if your memory is still correct, that is, if it didn’t have a dentist’s drill bored through it. As you climbed aboard the black shiney seat, you could feel the hardened protein scabs on the surface because that slippery leather was impervious to blood and drool. Your body was tipped back and elevated right up to Doctor Death’s face, and you got to look into his beady eyes through his Coke Bottle Glasses. Pleasure in pain was all you saw. “Open wide” was his demand as the Nazi nurse grinned her missing teeth smile. That bitch got great pleasure in seeing children squirm and occasionally she groaned a pleasure tone as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her panties were soaked but the kids thought she peed in her pants. Disgusting! The Dentist grabbed a silver steel spike and proceeded to poke any baby teeth left in their 10 year old mouth. “Hmmm? Got a cavity in this one,” he muttered and spun around to load up the syringe with narcotics. Prying open your mouth with a 2×4, he jabbed a 2′ needle into the fleshy joint between the upper and lower jaw until it bottomed out in bone. Left alone for 15 minutes the torture squad was back and grinning like a psychopath standing over a butchered puppy. “Let’s get that nasty cavity outta there,” he cackled. You were trapped in your drugged body awaiting death. To be continued…..
Torked Truth 