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Last Thursday I was finally forced to visit my friendly Chinese dental practitioner Dr. Won Char-Pang. On my last visit, Dr. Pang had indicated I needed a root canal. My first impression was that a root canal was something you did to unplug your septic system. I came to discover that in actual practice, as it applies to humans, the actual mechanics of the process are remarkably similar.

However, I am committed to continuing to distinguish myself from the general populace of East Texas by maintaining more teeth in my mouth than I can count on the fingers of one hand. So despite my growing sense of foreboding, I kept my date with destiny. Besides, I was tired of feeling like I was chewing on ice cubes wrapped in tin foil.

Upon my arrival, feeling much like Dustin Hoffman in The Marathon Man (an obscure reference, you have to have seen the movie) I waited patiently in Dr. Pang's waiting room. Per usual, I picked up a magazine to keep myself occupied. Dr. Pang's periodical selection, might I add, leaves much to be desired. As far as I can tell he stopped subscribing to any news magazine back when Michael was still black and part of The Five. The only current publication was something called "Young Girls at Play: A Nudist Perspective". I found this somewhat disquieting.

I heard the oriental version of Nurse Ratchet call "Missuh Tuggry" and, I stumbled zombie like into the chamber. I mean, treatment room. Being familiar with Dr. Pang's rather peculiar techniques, I assumed the position. I got down on all fours and waited patiently (no pun intended) for Dr. Pang to enter the room.

You see, prior to coming to "Amellica" as he so fondly refers to it, Dr. Pang practiced strictly Veterinary Dentistry. Having patients down on all fours makes Dr. Pang feel both more comfortable and I guess, nostalgic. I mentioned this strange practice to Blue Cross, but they responded with some jargon about "cost cutting while providing optimal quality of care". Whatever!

When Dr. Pang finally arrived and began his preparations I was thankful to see that he had also wheeled in the Nitrous Oxide tanks.

"How you doing today" he queried?

I really never understood this question. I'm in excruciating pain, on all fours, staring my Dentist right in the crotch and about to pass out from frighthow the hell does he think I'm doing? The only thing that could make this any worse is if his "light in the loafers" Dental Hygienist Harvey were approaching from the rear. I lashed out with my rear hoof, I mean, leg, just in case.

At this point, Dr. Pang and Nurse Ratchett decided to conference. Now I don't speak fluent Mandarin, but I could faintly discern the words "robotomy" and "expelliment". This only served to increase my uneasiness.

Having reached the end of my rope at this point, I grabbed Dr. Pang by his conveniently positioned family jewels and said, "GasNOW!" Getting the message, the good doctor strapped the plastic mask over my face and turned up the gas full throttle.

I really don't remember much after that. I only know the pain is gone and I can now eat my weight in Ben & Jerry's with nary a twinge of a molar. Though I don't know where I picked up the fleas. Thankfully however, I can relieve the irritation by scratching behind my ear with my left big toe. Never was that limber before.

Learn more about this author, Gerry Leopard.
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