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The beeping sounds of machinery, churn into my head, like nails. Each one, a reminder of the pressure. Constantly thinking about gulping down another brew. I couldn't really give a damn about the patient on the bed, i sincerely dont care. I never wanted to become apart of this twisted, sinister, dentistry underworld, I have no idea how I ended up in this cul-de-sac of a hell.
He lies on the bed, calm, relaxed. His red face blood red. I really couldn’t care less about this worthless profession, or this mans life.
I hate this job...
I open the cupboard... so many utensils, so sharp, so subtle. Each one sculpted from the mind of a genius. Like I always say, there is nothing technical about ruining lives.
I soften him up, with some short questions, then as I reach his blind spot, I rapidly put the cloth to his face. He slips back into the black leather seat.
Scalpel equipped, I tear through his rigid skin, he groans under his breath. The sharp appliance grinds against his dry bone, I love this sound...
This job has its perks...
Blood seeps down his worried face, into his eyes, down his cheeks, through his open lips. I want him to taste it. His eyes open momentarily, but they snap as his sees the sinister look in my twisted retinas.
I approach the glass cabinet once again. A Scissor-like instrument. It shines brightly in the artificial light. I watch in awe. I begin to snip off his rubbery ears. The muscles in his face reach a state of relaxation, I feel almost hurt that he cannot feel the pain...
I take this opportunity to open his head. Attached to his hair, it swings back, like a lid, on a hinge. I inspect the insides of his head, I meddle with pieces of the soft tissue, the meat-like pieces, and watch as he squirms.
I sew him back up, using only the recourses I have in the transparent case.
I wait. I anticipate. In excitement.
He awakes from his state. He mumbles, and limps from the room. The crashes echo throughout the building, as I hear him trying to walk. The half brained man, walks in the same manner as a zombie, his wife’s scream pierce my brain, as I smile to myself.
And under my breath I mutter...
I love this job...
I continue into the reception,
"Would you like to make an appointment sir?"
Everyone likes the dentist...
He lies on the bed, calm, relaxed. His red face blood red. I really couldn’t care less about this worthless profession, or this mans life.
I hate this job...
I open the cupboard... so many utensils, so sharp, so subtle. Each one sculpted from the mind of a genius. Like I always say, there is nothing technical about ruining lives.
I soften him up, with some short questions, then as I reach his blind spot, I rapidly put the cloth to his face. He slips back into the black leather seat.
Scalpel equipped, I tear through his rigid skin, he groans under his breath. The sharp appliance grinds against his dry bone, I love this sound...
This job has its perks...
Blood seeps down his worried face, into his eyes, down his cheeks, through his open lips. I want him to taste it. His eyes open momentarily, but they snap as his sees the sinister look in my twisted retinas.
I approach the glass cabinet once again. A Scissor-like instrument. It shines brightly in the artificial light. I watch in awe. I begin to snip off his rubbery ears. The muscles in his face reach a state of relaxation, I feel almost hurt that he cannot feel the pain...
I take this opportunity to open his head. Attached to his hair, it swings back, like a lid, on a hinge. I inspect the insides of his head, I meddle with pieces of the soft tissue, the meat-like pieces, and watch as he squirms.
I sew him back up, using only the recourses I have in the transparent case.
I wait. I anticipate. In excitement.
He awakes from his state. He mumbles, and limps from the room. The crashes echo throughout the building, as I hear him trying to walk. The half brained man, walks in the same manner as a zombie, his wife’s scream pierce my brain, as I smile to myself.
And under my breath I mutter...
I love this job...
I continue into the reception,
"Would you like to make an appointment sir?"
Everyone likes the dentist...
The dentist from hell. Nice one.
Cheers :-)
Nice, bizzare but nice.
The beeping sounds of machinery, churn into my head, like nails. Each one, a reminder of the pressure. Constantly thinking about gulping down another brew. I couldn't really give a damn about the patient on the bed, i sincerely dont care. I never wanted to become apart of this twisted, sinister, dentistry underworld, I have no idea how I ended up in this cul-de-sac of a hell.
He lies on the bed, calm, relaxed. His red face blood red. I really couldn’t care less about this worthless profession, or this mans life.
I hate this job...
I open the cupboard... so many utensils, so sharp, so subtle. Each one sculpted from the mind of a genius. Like I always say, there is nothing technical about ruining lives.
I soften him up, with some short questions, then as I reach his blind spot, I rapidly put the cloth to his face. He slips back into the black leather seat.
Scalpel equipped, I tear through his rigid skin, he groans under his breath. The sharp appliance grinds against his dry bone, I love this sound...
This job has its perks...
Blood seeps down his worried face, into his eyes, down his cheeks, through his open lips. I want him to taste it. His eyes open momentarily, but they snap as his sees the sinister look in my twisted retinas.
I approach the glass cabinet once again. A Scissor-like instrument. It shines brightly in the artificial light. I watch in awe. I begin to snip off his rubbery ears. The muscles in his face reach a state of relaxation, I feel almost hurt that he cannot feel the pain...
I take this opportunity to open his head. Attached to his hair, it swings back, like a lid, on a hinge. I inspect the insides of his head, I meddle with pieces of the soft tissue, the meat-like pieces, and watch as he squirms.
I sew him back up, using only the recourses I have in the transparent case.
I wait. I anticipate. In excitement.
He awakes from his state. He mumbles, and limps from the room. The crashes echo throughout the building, as I hear him trying to walk. The half brained man, walks in the same manner as a zombie, his wife’s scream pierce my brain, as I smile to myself.
And under my breath I mutter...
I love this job...
I continue into the reception,
"Would you like to make an appointment sir?"
Everyone likes the dentist...
He lies on the bed, calm, relaxed. His red face blood red. I really couldn’t care less about this worthless profession, or this mans life.
I hate this job...
I open the cupboard... so many utensils, so sharp, so subtle. Each one sculpted from the mind of a genius. Like I always say, there is nothing technical about ruining lives.
I soften him up, with some short questions, then as I reach his blind spot, I rapidly put the cloth to his face. He slips back into the black leather seat.
Scalpel equipped, I tear through his rigid skin, he groans under his breath. The sharp appliance grinds against his dry bone, I love this sound...
This job has its perks...
Blood seeps down his worried face, into his eyes, down his cheeks, through his open lips. I want him to taste it. His eyes open momentarily, but they snap as his sees the sinister look in my twisted retinas.
I approach the glass cabinet once again. A Scissor-like instrument. It shines brightly in the artificial light. I watch in awe. I begin to snip off his rubbery ears. The muscles in his face reach a state of relaxation, I feel almost hurt that he cannot feel the pain...
I take this opportunity to open his head. Attached to his hair, it swings back, like a lid, on a hinge. I inspect the insides of his head, I meddle with pieces of the soft tissue, the meat-like pieces, and watch as he squirms.
I sew him back up, using only the recourses I have in the transparent case.
I wait. I anticipate. In excitement.
He awakes from his state. He mumbles, and limps from the room. The crashes echo throughout the building, as I hear him trying to walk. The half brained man, walks in the same manner as a zombie, his wife’s scream pierce my brain, as I smile to myself.
And under my breath I mutter...
I love this job...
I continue into the reception,
"Would you like to make an appointment sir?"
Everyone likes the dentist...