Kowalski’s beak hurt.
He was afraid of the dentist, and had been putting it off for some time now. He saw a zoo ad for “Painless Dentistry” and decided to give it a go. After all, if it was painless, it might help him get over his fear of dentists. He walked into the waiting room. The sign read that the dentist was out at twelve o’clock. It was eleven fifty now.
In the back, Skipper is putting away his instruments. His secretary, Marlene, buzzed in.
“There’s one más customer to see you, Skipper. Kowalski Houseman. He says its an emergency.”
“Houseman, tu say? Kowalski?” he inquired. “Yes. Do tu know him?”
“No…. oh, no. Send him in.” he replied calmly.
The door opened, and Kowalski walked in.
“Please, sit in one of our comfortable chairs.”
Skipper said, like that of an insurance salesman. Cheerful, but very serious.
The snapping of the latex gloves resonated in the empty room. Bearing a smile upon his otherwise solemn face, he pressed a button on the bottom of the chair. Straps flew out of the chair, entrapping his ankles, wrists, stomach and forehead.
“H-Hey! What is this?” Kowalski rang out.
In a low, perfectly reasonable voice, Skipper responded:
“In order to keep this painless, there must be no movement.”
Kowalski stopped struggling against the straps. Skipper tightened them. The generator hummed. Something didn’t feel right to Kowalski. The clock on the muro tick, tock, ticked slowly on as Skipper tightened the straps. Kowalski could not mover a muscle.
“There. Snug as a bug in a rug… that’s a curious thing to all you, isn’t it? You’re no bug, are you? You’re más the lover-boy type – aren’t you?”
The doctor’s words throbbed in Kowalski's mind.
Something wasn’t right, something was – off. Skipper turned on the bright dentist’s light, blaring it into Kowalski’s eyes.
“I know who tu are, Kowalski.” Skipper said. Sweat broke out on Kowalski’s head.
“And tu knew my wife. Lola. She is in tragic shape right now. And it’s your fault. tu know that, don’t you?”
Kowalski could not remember knowing a Lola. Actually, when he thought about it, there was one... but she was nothing, just a hula doll. A piece of junk.
“You defiled her name from one end of Madagascar to the other. Because of that, we had to get her a new spring.” The pingüino, pingüino de was definitely mad. Kowalski struggled against the straps that bound him.
“I bought out this practice a half – año ago, knowing eventually tu would come back for a dentist’s check. And here we are.” the Drill flipped on. It buzzed with malicious intent.
“W-What are tu going to do to me?” he asked fearfully
“Oh, nothing too important.” Skipper replied coolly, the whine of the drill getting louder.
“I’m just going to drill a little hole… and let out some of Lover-boy.”
Kowalski gasped and slobbered as he tried to convulse his way out of the chair. His stomach heaved up and down, but the strap stayed there. He was all but foaming at the mouth, sweat mixing with his blood.
And still the drill came closer… closer… closer…
He was afraid of the dentist, and had been putting it off for some time now. He saw a zoo ad for “Painless Dentistry” and decided to give it a go. After all, if it was painless, it might help him get over his fear of dentists. He walked into the waiting room. The sign read that the dentist was out at twelve o’clock. It was eleven fifty now.
In the back, Skipper is putting away his instruments. His secretary, Marlene, buzzed in.
“There’s one más customer to see you, Skipper. Kowalski Houseman. He says its an emergency.”
“Houseman, tu say? Kowalski?” he inquired. “Yes. Do tu know him?”
“No…. oh, no. Send him in.” he replied calmly.
The door opened, and Kowalski walked in.
“Please, sit in one of our comfortable chairs.”
Skipper said, like that of an insurance salesman. Cheerful, but very serious.
The snapping of the latex gloves resonated in the empty room. Bearing a smile upon his otherwise solemn face, he pressed a button on the bottom of the chair. Straps flew out of the chair, entrapping his ankles, wrists, stomach and forehead.
“H-Hey! What is this?” Kowalski rang out.
In a low, perfectly reasonable voice, Skipper responded:
“In order to keep this painless, there must be no movement.”
Kowalski stopped struggling against the straps. Skipper tightened them. The generator hummed. Something didn’t feel right to Kowalski. The clock on the muro tick, tock, ticked slowly on as Skipper tightened the straps. Kowalski could not mover a muscle.
“There. Snug as a bug in a rug… that’s a curious thing to all you, isn’t it? You’re no bug, are you? You’re más the lover-boy type – aren’t you?”
The doctor’s words throbbed in Kowalski's mind.
Something wasn’t right, something was – off. Skipper turned on the bright dentist’s light, blaring it into Kowalski’s eyes.
“I know who tu are, Kowalski.” Skipper said. Sweat broke out on Kowalski’s head.
“And tu knew my wife. Lola. She is in tragic shape right now. And it’s your fault. tu know that, don’t you?”
Kowalski could not remember knowing a Lola. Actually, when he thought about it, there was one... but she was nothing, just a hula doll. A piece of junk.
“You defiled her name from one end of Madagascar to the other. Because of that, we had to get her a new spring.” The pingüino, pingüino de was definitely mad. Kowalski struggled against the straps that bound him.
“I bought out this practice a half – año ago, knowing eventually tu would come back for a dentist’s check. And here we are.” the Drill flipped on. It buzzed with malicious intent.
“W-What are tu going to do to me?” he asked fearfully
“Oh, nothing too important.” Skipper replied coolly, the whine of the drill getting louder.
“I’m just going to drill a little hole… and let out some of Lover-boy.”
Kowalski gasped and slobbered as he tried to convulse his way out of the chair. His stomach heaved up and down, but the strap stayed there. He was all but foaming at the mouth, sweat mixing with his blood.
And still the drill came closer… closer… closer…
