I’m in Heaven…

I mean: Ow. Yesterday I saw Ninja Bunny Dentist in her natural habitat, a.k.a. the dental office / pain infliction emporium. This time I had spent the preceding week telepathically commanding her to wear a Catholic schoolgirl outfit complete with shiny hooker boots and a pair of bunny ears (white, to go with the blouse), but she resisted my will once again. She wore her standard torture garb – dress slacks, fitted lab coat, and diamond studs in her perfect ears.

I wondered if absence and my imagination had overestimated her beauty. Nope. When I saw her, she looked more stunning than ever, goddamnit, although after hours of searching her angelic face I did manage to detect a tiny black speck on her left cheek and two pores on her forehead that are closer together than the others. I can no longer claim she has a flawless complexion, but I’ll do her just the same.

We flirted a bit. She asked me how I was, and I said fine. She asked about my teeth, and I said they were good. I could read between the lines. She had noticed my buttocks, and she wanted me. Oh, yeah.

Things got romantic then. She put on the latex and rammed a needle into my gums several times, running it to the depth of the roots which are apparently implanted in my brain. This got me to thinking – why don’t dentists offer a comprehensive pain management package? On the day of the appointment, you could make arrangements to leave the front door open and busy yourself facing away from it, like watching TV or futzing about on the Internet. NBD can sneak in behind you, render you unconscious using her dental training (i.e. tire iron to the base of the skull), and then her hot looking minions could cart you to the office, drill to their heart’s desire, charge you an exorbitant fee, and then leave you face down on your bed wondering if it was all just a dream, a dream in which the tooth fairy did some extensive work and swiped your credit card into oblivion.

Anyway, the shots swelled my upper lip to where it overlapped the lower, which I’m sure made me look as sexy as tofurkey sounds appetizing. I would say that I looked like an albino monkey, but monkeys are cute and I don’t want to insult any who might be reading this. She drilled for awhile, and I dozed after the worst of the pain was at an end. I dreamed that she was installing a removable shelf above my canines, a shelf which could hold one of many interchangeable venom packs from knockout drops to lethal poison. I was seriously disappointed when I awoke and found a normal tooth with no super abilities in its place.

When it was over, I was left with a wonderful, bright smile – in theory, at least. I don’t actually smile because it’s not very death metal, but now I have a nice musical grimace. NBD’s pretty assistant warned me to be careful when biting into some things like apples or gooey stuff like caramels. They didn’t say anything about using my new chompers to strip the living flesh from mine enemies. I wonder if I should call NBD and ask her about that. It would be a great icebreaker, don’t you think?

Our date ended like it always does – she ditched me, I paid the check, made another date, and went home to suffer alone. Alone. All alone. Totally, incredibly, mind-shatteringly, irrevocably, all alone.

Then I ordered a pizza. Which was nice.