Once again – and for the very last time – I’ll come out with the honest to goodness truth. My name is Greg Pitter and I’m a dentist working just outside of Detroit. In the medicine cabinet of my bathroom, I have a collection of approximately 300 teeth – most dentist’s do collect teeth they just don’t tell you about it because they don’t want to creep you out. Each tooth has an identity of its own, a personality from the dips and falls of it edges. I look at a tooth and I feel like a Michelangelo looking at a slab of marble. I see its hidden potential, its hidden expression.
  Over the past two months the stories that I’ve put up on this blog are from the point of view of these teeth. One tooth has a George W  Bush look to it and another tooth seems like its from the mouth of a computer programmer. These stores are giving a voice to these teeth. Yes, it’s crazy but I challenge you to look deep into the eye of your dentist the next time you’re under the drill and tell me there isn’t some glint of insanity in what you see.
  So anyway here’s today’s story based on an angry little tooth…


Teeth into Revenge 


     Once his stupid door slammed and we heard the crash of his body falling onto his bedroom floor, I knew it was go time. Tom held up the block of cheese and looked at me. I just looked straight back at him as I took the instant camera out from my backpack. Tom took his inhaler out of his pocket and huffed a couple lungfulls of the stuff. 
   “What if I need to do this while we’re up there ?”
   There was no way that he was going to chicken out with a lame-ass excuse like that and I told him so. Besides, Mike was so blotto to the world that nothing would’ve woken him up. A team of retarded, cross-eyed elephants charging a gang of monster trucks in order to hump them to smithereens wouldn’t have woken him up. At the tender age of16, my stupid older brother was already a drunk. 
     And to think that mom and dad had left this jerk in charge of us for the weekend. 
     Tom tip-toed behind me as I charged up the steps towards my revenge. When I opened Mike’s door I was body-slammed by a wall of boozy stank. The big A-hole himself was spread-eagled on the floor with his face scrunched up on its side. On all four walls, there were posters of big-boobed models in bikinis just stared straight ahead as if to say, “Yeah we knew you were a dick-weed all along.” 
    I clenched my teeth in rage and joy. I thought of what he did to me three months earlier.
    “Are you sure you want to go through with this ?” Tom whispered.
    I took the cheese and plate from Tom who looked like he wasn’t going to make it into the room and stuffed the camera in his hands. “Just get a couple shots okay ?”
    He nodded quickly a couple times and his glasses slid down his nose.
    I knelt down next to fat face, slipped the plate beneath his cheek and then stuffed the cheese into his mouth and started grating it against his braces. Flecks of deformed cheese strips fell out onto the plate.
    “Take the pictures,” I said to Tom and he obediently started snapping away.
     The plan was to sneak the best picture into the bottom of the pile of grated cheese that Mike would be using the next night for his romantic taco date.  We’d also sprinkle some of the braces grated cheese into the pile. When Mike and his hot date got to the bottom of the pile of cheese they’d see where most of it came from. At the sight of the picture, she’d probably barf all over the jerk.  It would be amazing. 
   My false teeth started to shiver with joy at the thought of what was going to happen. This was my first act of but there were 31 other stabs at revenge that were in store for my brother. One for every tooth that I’d lost because of him.
    
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