Planet of the Ape

I meekly followed my mom inside the large, glass doors, pausing only for a moment to glare at the poster of the picture perfect model. Her bleached white teeth taunted me.
The receptionist glanced at us from her computer screen. From her bored look, I could only assume she had been playing a game of solitaire and not doing so well.
About five minutes later, I was seated in the big, scary adjustible chair. I anxiously glanced around the room. On the left wall, a couple of built in shelves housed a dozen denture models. Creepy. Next to them was a bunch of technical-ly equipment. In the middle of the room, was a TV on the wall. There was nothing playing. Isn't it funny how a trip to the dentist's office can make you see irony in everything?
On the right side, there was - yup, you guess it, more equipment, and a couple of handouts and recommended toothpastes.
I glanced at the room across the hall. Three adults and two dentists were attempting to force a small, sobbing kid to open his mouth.
My sympathies, friend.
But my time was coming, too. Two dentists followed by my mother walked into the room. First I needed a cleaning, then some coating on my teeth to protect them from future decay.
I got through the cleaning okay, but the teeth coating, , that was a different story.
They gave me GOGGLES! That was when things really started going badly. They put blocks around every tooth that they were coating, so that no saliva could reach them.
That should have been my cue to spit everything out, knock the two dentists' heads together, and run out the door. There was a nice Indian lady, next door. Maybe she would understand.
But most likely not.
In conclusion, I have no cavities! Twelve years without getting a single one! It isn't fair. I want a silver tooth, like Captain Jack. Granted, his are gold, but I'll take what I can get.

Kidding.