Are you a dentist? Who cares.. the circumstances are dire. It’s time we clear something up. Marshall has mentioned the guy who made his teeth.. or something like that. Yes, the rumor is true. I made myself a set of partial dentures. The how and the why I’ll save until we arrive in the proper order of things. Let’s begin with the tooth pulling..
It was a day like any other day, except that I had an appointment to go see Dr. Boob-on-face. I’m not using her real name, because, well, I don’t know it. In fact, I’m not sure anyone does.. we all just refer to her as “the dentist who rests her boobs on your face.” By the way, I don’t think it’s intentional. It just.. is. I suppose they’ve gotta rest somewhere.. might as well be on somebody’s face. Moving on… Something about Dr. Boob-on-face… She’s possibly psychotic. I recall, on her third attempt to get me to agree to let her pull my two bottom front teeth, I finally agreed, if only for the reason that I was having bad bone loss. When I finally succumbed to her pleas, she actually became very giddy and said “YESSS!” like a pre-teen who just got a new PlayStation. She did the arm pumping thing, and before my bowels had an opportunity to solidify, I had a pair of boobs on my face. they became.. the dreaded boobs of doom. Not ten minutes later my mouth was different. I felt like somebody robbed me for a kidney. I looked in the mirror and reality hit me. I was hideous. I said “WOUUOEWWEO”, which means “Oh no!” in the language of Novocaine. Dr. Boob-on-face says “Oh it’s great!”. She was high on the rush of a fix. I think this whole thing, I’ve come to realize, is her drug. The bigger the hole in my mouth, the happier she would become. When I asked about getting a partial denture, she laughed. Those boobs are deceptive.. this might be the worse day of my life!
Dr. Boob-on-face has given me an emotional scar and changed my previously wonderful opinion of boobs to suspicious and hesitant. Whenever I see boobs, I flinch.. maybe even a nervous fart. ..Even man boobs. If I think they’d be comfortable on my face, then I get gas and I develop a twitch. …gotta make sure my remaining teeth are okay.
It didn’t take me long to try and find a chunk of wax to stick in the empty spot. Unfortunately, there’s no wax in prison. My next idea was to use plastic or epoxy. I figured that epoxy might be a bit toxic, and I was afraid I’d grow boobs, and like a groundhog I’d be afraid of my own shadow, and so I grinded down a white toothbrush into several 1 inch pieces. After about 24 hours of careful meticulous scraping and sanding with cloth, I had a rough tooth shape. The shape would obviously fall out though, so I had to carve a saddle in each 3 sides, the bottom and the left and right side that make contact with the teeth. Each saddle should be a smooth hyperbolic curve. It was tedious, but I made it look like it belonged there, aside from the abnormal whiteness of the plastic. However, recall that the plastic is a partial denture for two teeth.. I carved two teeth into the front by using a piece of dental floss as a saw. ..No kidding! Friction!!! My partial looks real, aside from being bright white. Unfortunately, there is another logistical issue. Our teeth act as whistles. When we speak, air tunnels through grooves in our teeth to give unique sounds. If we press our tongue against two teeth and speak, we get an “s” sound or “th” sounds. One is a palatial noise, and the other is non palatial. Without the grooves, properly placed, in the plastic partial, I can’t make those sounds. Sooo.. I spent some time perfecting the carving of the whistle. Now I sound just as I did when I had all my teeth. Anyway, that’s the rundown. There’s a story behind my teeth.. and now you know.