In The Beginning..
..there were the Mutant Teeth. My back milkies were appearently overstaying their welcome, causing the front ones to come through in wierd places, making me look like a shark and breathe like Darth Vader. Braces, booms the dentist to my parents. But nothing can be done until all the teeth come thorugh. So lets rip out all the milk ones to hurry them up shall we? (Mercifully in batches). We have to leave SOME in there to let her eat and stuff.

So aged around 12, I had to choose between looking like a freak, or allowing a rural Welsh incompetent loony to stick antique giant metal syringes in my mouth. OOWWWWW. Seriously, this thing looked it belonged in a museum.
The piss anaesthetic didn't work, so usually about 3 or 4 of these bastard shots went in before I'd realise the pain was about the same as having the teeth ripped out anyways (shallow roots), and lying would allow escape all the sooner.
One benefit was the recommendation of icecream to numb the pain/slow bleeding. So Dad would dutifully trot into a shop afterwards to get one while I spat blood into tissues. Once the bastard dentist ripped 4 out at once. Bleeding so bad whole mouth filled up, I panicked and ran to a bin, leant over and appeared to puke blood into it, to the horror of a group of grannies stood nearby. Then had to fob them off until Dad arrived as I couldnt speak without more blood dribbling out.

Mmmmmm... blood-flavoured icecream..

Now I have a uber-campmeister French dentist, who plays cheesy francaise pop CDs at you, dances about, and is disconcertingly "touchy feely"; lots of pattings on the shoulder and little gay-fashion-designer tsks/exclaimations. Its frighteningly effective at distracting you from the immediate pain/fear.

B3tans, go to France - the fillings are cheap, they have posh fancy lasers and stuff, and the "experience" is "interesting"..
(Hikikomori** watching cartoons on, Fri 3 Nov 2006, 23:45, Reply)