One day, a friend and I were chatting about an abusive former boss and how their oral hygiene was always severely lacking. Three days later, I was fantasizing about death by maggots. In addition to the maggots, you’ll want to avoid this one if you struggle with horrific scenarios involving teeth.
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He ran his tongue over his teeth, playing with the hunk of old meat he found there. Rubbing until his tongue was almost raw, he dislodged the old piece of food. Well, most of it anyway. He got rid of just enough that it wasn’t bothering him anymore.
Sure, he wasn’t as on top of his dental hygiene as he could have been, but what was the point? Plastic toothbrushes were bad for the environment, and he ate plenty of apples (nature’s toothbrush). Well, he ate some apples. But only when they were on sale at the grocery store.
And he refused to see a dentist. They weren’t even real doctors. Just another government scam to leach money out of the working classes.
Anyway, he had more important things to worry about. Like chemtrails and microchips. And the elite 1% who made blood sacrifices in order to secure their wealth.
Returning his attention to the TV, it wasn’t long before a new irritant caught his attention. He ran his tongue over what was now a sore spot on his upper gums but could find no trace of food. Next, he took a swig of beer, swishing around his mouth and between his teeth, but the sensation remained.
With a grunt, he got out of his recliner and hobbled over to the bathroom. Under the dim glow of the fluorescent light, he pulled his lips back and prodded around his teeth and gums with one finger. His upper left canine gave under the slight pressure, and he pressed a little harder, pushing the tooth back towards his throat.
Gripping it firmly between his fingers, he pulled hard on the tooth, freeing it from the rotten gum. It came away easily, trailing dead nerves and shriveled veins. Blood splattered into the sink, streaking its way down the drain.
But the discomfort remained, so he examined the now empty gum. Something whitish poked out through the opening, like a new tooth. But when he placed his finger on it, it didn’t feel hard. Flinging open the medicine cabinet, he rooted around for some tweezers he knew his ex-wife had left behind. Tweezers in hand, he closed the door to the cabinet and faced himself in the mirror once more.
It took a few tries before he successfully caught the wriggling thing, but once he did it slid right out. He dropped both the tweezers and the writhing maggot into the sink the moment he realized what it was. A fresh gush of blood followed.
Careful to avoid the maggot, he picked up the tweezers. With trembling hands, he brought them to his mouth once more. Between the tweezers and his fingers, he successfully pulled eight more teeth. His chin and the front of his shirt were now soaked in blood. Maggots poked their featureless heads out of each new opening.
He yanked at them, pulling out what he could and spitting them into the sink. It wasn’t long before his gag reflex kicked in and he retched, flushing out more maggots on the wave of is vomit. But they didn’t stop.
The maggots kept coming, and coming, spewing out of his bleeding gums and wriggling down his throat. He would have screamed if they weren’t choking him.
