Murder Through the Molar
Reading time: 1 minute
The office is closed. I don’t work Sundays, but I have one patient. A Mr. Frain.
He’s behind in his payments for a root canal. Also, he caught me fondling a patient. Him, when the local wore off early. He threatened to expose me like an x-ray.
I met him this afternoon to pay his bribe. Except I hit him with a stun gun instead. This one won’t wear off early. Now we have a different arrangement.
I pull him like a tooth from my trunk. Drag him through my office back door. Muzak greets us. Does it never shut off!
It’s 1 a.m. when I drop him in the dental chair. Perfect timing – I’d scheduled him for 11:45. I grip the drill like a Maestro with his baton. Wave it above my head and begin my personal symphony across Frain’s nerves. Root canal? I’m drilling the fucking Panama Canal. The pain awakens him just in time for the torture to kill him.
Guessin’ he learned his lesson: No messin’ with the Leader of the Plaque.
“Okay, Frain,” I scream. “Spit!”
Nothin’. No follow-up appointment necessary.
It’s the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Can Frain recover? Of course he can. Like Wile E. Coyote, he must revive so we can read his next murder scene tomorrow. Every day brings a new weapon to polish him off. Will Thursday be…
- Easter Bunny
- Electric Chair
- Ethylene Glycol
- Eveready batteries
Come on back to find out!