The Tooth Fairy

“Ow!” I exclaimed as I stumbled and hit my false teeth against a door nail.

A tooth fairy appeared out of nowhere and snatched away the fallen tooth.

“That’s mine,” I protested to the tooth fairy.

“It was yours before it became a dodo,” the tooth fairy replied.

“It can’t turn into a dodo. They were born ages before I got my buck teeth,” I said.

“I can’t take buck teeth,” the tooth fairy said regretfully, “They don’t fetch much.”

“You mean you sell them?” I said taken aback.

“Dentists require them for off the shelf transplants,” she replied with a smile.

“You mean you deal in second-hand false teeth?” I asked.

“Yes, but it all depends,” she said.

“On what?” I asked.

“Whether they were used for eating leafy vegetables or succulent meat,” the tooth fairy said.

“Oh!” I exclaimed.

“Then there are the egalitarian false teeth,” she informed.

“You mean egg-eating teeth?” I enquired.

“No, they are for equality, equal quantities of spinach and roast chicken,” she replied.

“I hate spinach,” I said.

“You hate Popeye?” she asked surprised.

“No, whose eye did he pop?” I asked amazed.

“Dentists mostly, who refused him spinach,” the tooth fairy said.

“Then how did Popeye get his false teeth?” I asked breathlessly in anticipation.

“They were welded into place,” she informed.

“That makes them irreplaceable,” I said.

“Sometimes his false teeth interferes with his tonsils,” the tooth fairy replied.

“His tonsils like spinach or roast chicken?” I asked.

“It’s not his tonsils, but his gums that are the matter,” she said.

“You mean he has gumption?” I asked wanting to know.

“Not gumption, his gums are riparian,” the tooth fairy said.

“Something like Jack The Ripper?” I asked interestedly.

“Jack the Ripper did not have false teeth, his elder brother Zack the Zipper had a pair, they are kept with the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London.

“Zipped up?” I asked.

“Ripped up more likely,” the tooth fairy said with a wry smile.

“With power tools?” I asked.

“The dentists will know, they have the power these days,” she said shrugging her shoulders.

“Power to the people?” I asked.

“No, battery-powered toothbrushes,” she replied.

“Do the Communists use them too?” I asked.

“Their brush with democracy did not work out,” the tooth fairy said.

“Was Popeye a Communist?” I asked.

“No, his spinach was,” the tooth fairy replied.

“Oh!”

“Too much politics these days,” I said shaking my head and loosening another tooth.

“Caught and bowled,” the tooth fairy said extracting it swiftly.

“What was that for?” I asked amazed.

“One for the road,” she said.

“You tipple?” I asked.

“Only when I am polishing false teeth,” she replied with a wink.

“You have a pint or two?” I asked.

“Not at the moment, can’t drink on duty,” she said, “but I can give you some bootleg or moonshine.”

“Are those anesthetics?” I asked.

“It also mends hearts that have been broken in,” she said philosophically.

“You mean a break in?” I asked.

“You can ask Cupid that, it’s not my specialization,” the tooth fairy replied.

“Does he have false teeth too?” I asked in wonder.

“False teeth have nothing to do with his aim in life,” the tooth fairy said.

“You want that doornail?” I asked the tooth fairy pointing to the one that had exorcised my tooth.

“What will I do with it?” she asked puzzled.

“You can give it to a dentist, he can use it together with his forceps,” I said.

“I’ll give it to Santa Claus, who will put it in the dentist’s stockings at Christmas,” the tooth fairy said happily.

“Santa has false teeth too?” I asked.

“Why do you think he sings ‘yo ho ho and a bottle of rum’ when he couriers his gifts?” the tooth fairy asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

“Because his tongue gets a tongue lashing from his back teeth,” the tooth fairy replied.

“Why?”

“Because the back teeth were filed and the front teeth received the fillings,” she explained.

“That’s downright partial!” I exclaimed, “The front teeth must be Communist.”

“Just like Cupid these days,” the tooth fairy sighed.

“How?”

“His has become short sighted and frequently mistakes the behind for the heart,” the tooth fairy replied.

“That makes him a Communist!” I exclaimed.

“His propaganda is that he is the God of Love, but he is simply an archer with bad eyesight and no hindsight,” the tooth fairy explained.

“Does he stay behind the Iron Curtain?” I asked.

“He goes there when he loses a tooth,” the tooth fairy said.

“An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” I said.

“That’s an eye opener,” the tooth fairy replied.

“He doesn’t have a can opener, does he?” I enquired.

“Yes, when he opens a can of worms,” the tooth fairy replied blithely.

“He likes the canned variety, I see,” I said.

“He gets them from the supermarket when his fairy godmother is not looking,” the tooth fairy said.

“What about his grandmother?” I questioned.

“Oh! She passed away,” she said, “She accidentally bit into her tongue with her false teeth.”

“That’s the trouble with cheap labor these days, no quality control,” I remarked.

“Love’s labor lost, that is what Cupid would have said after a trip behind the Iron Curtain.”

“Cheap labor there too! What is the world coming too!” I exclaimed.

“Even Santa Claus and the dentists are using cheap labor these days,” the tooth fairy informed.

“Oh!”

“Santa’s elves have been substituted by gnomes and dentists are using pliers instead of forceps these days,” the tooth fairy said.

“It’s unconstitutional,” I protested.

“Bad for the constitution too,” the tooth fairy said.

“You should read them the riot act and some of Shakespeare’s sonnets,” I said earnestly.

“To be or not to be that is the question,” the tooth fairy said.

“Not to the bees, but to Cupid, Santa Claus, and the dentists,” I corrected her.

“The slings and arrow of outrageous fortune,” the tooth fairy mused.

“That must be Cupid,” I said.

“Yes when he is making an omelet and soliloquising,” the tooth fairy said.

“You can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs,” I pointed out.

“You could try scrambled eggs for breakfast, Hamlet did,” the tooth fairy suggested.

“What about Santa?”

“He doesn’t need breakfast when he is carrying out his pre-Christmas burglaries down chimneys,” the tooth fairy said.

“Is he a kleptomaniac,” I asked interestedly.

“He was until his dentist put him on the straight and narrow path,” the tooth fairy said.

“But his fat must have been in the fire!” I exclaimed.

“No, in the microwave,” the tooth fairy replied, “with Cupid controlling the temperature.”

“He does that, does he!”

“No more primitive bow and arrows for Cupid,” the tooth fairy replied.

“He could try a stun gun,” I said helpfully.

“He did that once and shot himself in the leg,” the tooth fairy replied.

“He can’t have a leg to stand on now,” I chortled.

“He borrowed a wooden leg from the one-legged pirate,” the tooth fairy said.

“What happened to the pirate?” I asked.

“He is all at sea now seeing the lush, tropical islands,” she said.

“Must be rescuing damsels in distress,” I said.

“No, just sea horses,” the tooth fairy said.

“Why?”

“He goes scuba diving with them in a bikini,” she informed.

“And Cupid?”

“He goes deep sea diving with the Queen of Hearts and the Mad Hatter,” the tooth fairy replied.

“What about Santa and the dentists?” I asked.

“Santa goes to Venus sometimes and the dentists to Mars,” she replied.

“Didn't I hear something about Venus and Mars?” I said thinking deeply.

“The newspapers reported it on page three,” the tooth fairy said.

 “Were false teeth found there?” I asked hopefully.

“Even if they were, they would be alien artifacts with inalienable rights.”

“But just imagine alien false teeth having lamb roast, cutlets, veal and duck,” I said, “and dentists scuba diving with Cupid and the one-legged pirate.”

“Unlikely, because Cupid is short-sighted and might shoot himself in the fleshy part of the thigh when he is high,” the tooth fairy said.

 “Does he have false teeth too?” I asked.

“Certainly, he has been around for ages booting lovers around the bush,” the tooth fairy said.

“Is he immortal?” I asked.

“Lovers have immortalized him,” the tooth fairy said philosophically.

“Oh!”

“That’s why he is mostly immoral these days,” she said, “he even tried to flirt with me.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I took away his only pair of false teeth,” she giggled.

“And he stopped flirting?”

“Only after I made him buy a couple of skirts,” she said.

“For you?”

“No, for himself,” the tooth fairy replied.

“Why?”

“Because earlier he only wore wings and nothing else.”

“So he wears skirts and dons false teeth while stalking lovers?”I asked.

“He doesn’t stalk anymore, there’s a law against it now,” the tooth fairy replied.

“Then what does he do?” I asked surprised.

“He browses through online dating sites,” she said.

“What about you?” I asked.

“He asked me to get him a new pair of false teeth, so I’m collecting teeth,” she replied.

“Why don’t you use a doornail and get your victims to stumble against it? It should be easy,” I said.

“The dentists wouldn’t like it,” she said thoughtfully.

“All you would have to do would be to trip someone up,” I said.

“I can ask Cupid to help me do that,” she said slowly.

“If henceforth anyone loses a tooth,  they can dial 911 for Cupid and he can call the ambulance and the fire brigade and you could do a spot story for the ‘Daily Tooth Times’,  I said.

The tooth fairy nodded and bonked my head against the doornail with another tooth falling out.

“You are making me toothless,” I protested.

“The dentists will thank me with folded knees,” she said, “when I knight them with the Order of the Wizard of Oz.”

“You can make dentists toothless too,” I suggested.

“Yes and then there are their patients who are also dentists with false teeth,” the tooth fairy replied interested.

“Do they bite?” I asked.

“Only patients,” she replied, “to pay their overheads.”

“Do they use doornails?” I questioned.

“Only when they run out of chloroform,” the tooth fairy said.

“Oh! They chloroform their patients to make them pay their bills?”

“And also make them leave everything to them in their wills,” she replied with a wink.

“Then what do they do?” I asked flabbergasted.

“They nail the hides of their patients to their walls and display them as trophies for the tooth fairy, other dentists, and big game hunters.” the tooth fairy replied and flew off with a dainty flutter of her wings.