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I will break the door of hell and smash the
bolts; I will summon the dead to eat food
with the living, and the living shall be
outnumbered by the host of them.
-The Epic of Gilgamesh
ÜÜ ÜÜ
ÚÄÝÛÝ ÜßÜÜÞÞþ ÜÝß ÜÝß ÜßÜÜÞÞþ ÞÛÞÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ ÝÛÝ ÝÝ Þ ÞÞ ÞÞ ÝÝ Þ ÞÛÞ ³
³ ÝÛÝ Üþ ßÛ ßÛ Üþ ÞÛÞ Sliver ³
³ ÝÛÝ ÜÝß ÞÞ ÞÞ ÜÝß ÞÛÞ ³
ÀÄÝÛÝ ÜÝÝÝÜÜÜÝÝÜÝÝÜ ÜÝÝÜ ÜÝÝÝÜÜÜÝÝ ÞÛÞÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
ßß ßß Volume I, File XIV [062895]
Writer: Rosewater
A sliver of spinach sat intimidatingly on his upper front
teeth. He wore a new Armani suit, had perfectly slick hair
and the aroma of an expensive after-shave circling about
him, but the bit of vegetable on his dental works
detracted from these would-be positive aspects of his
appearance to the point that he seemed less attractive
than the gangly, buck-toothed MIT graduate sitting across
the crowded restaurant. His lunch companion noticed it,
but out of fear of a social faux pas, she kept quiet. He
tried to impress her and went on and on about his
supposedly important corporate occupation, his new
sportscar, and described, in specific detail, the "deal"
he had just wrapped up with a Japanese company, generating
a large profit for the company, and possibly a promotion
for himself. During the course of his spiel, he never
noticed the food on his teeth.
She did, of course.
All she could do was nod and half-smile, the way polite
people do when they really don't care what someone is
saying and are preoccupied with other things, like
spinach, for instance. The spinach was now ingrained to
her psyche, stuck there like an embarrassing piece of
toilet paper on the sole of your shoe after you leave the
restroom that you don't notice until after fifteen
minutes of snickering from strangers in the adjoining
tables.
"You should have seen me," he gushed, overconfidently.
She attempted to turn her attention away from the leafy
green goodness that perched atop his pearly whites by
nervously fumbling through her purse. She tried anything,
so long as it might keep her from glancing at his mouth.
His stories were boring, making the situation worse.
Nothing else could keep her attention away from the
intense carnage of vegetables in his orifice, and it ate
away at her. She squirmed in her seat, trying to avoid
the uncomfortable situation.
With each passing glance, the smidgen of flora seemed to
increase in magnitude until it was the size of a cow. It
spoke to her in a stage whisper: "Come here Susan. Stick
your fingers in his mouth and pull me right out. You know
you want to." It was tempting. However, she refrained from
performing an all-out assault on him. What stopped her,
she didn't know.
After much nervous twitching, she attempted to tip him off
to the atrocious particles of leafy greens that had taken
a permanent residence between his two front teeth.
She licked her teeth, hoping he would see it and
self-consciously perform the same task himself, thereby
eradicating the entire uncomfortable predicament. No such
luck. She tried again. Once again, nothing. For a short
while longer, she again attempted to ignore it, but the
sliver clenched at her throat and showed no mercy to her
weakening manners.
Then she saw her chance for salvation. From the haze of
the restaurant came Beano, their waiter. Perhaps he could
help.
"More water, sir?" Please, please, say yes. Wash that
stuff away. Oh, God, please.
"No thanks, just a check."
She fell heartbroken. Out of desperation, she performed
the same tooth-licking operation, but he had no response
to her silent pleas. Her entire life had been filled with
tragedies, but none more agonizing than this. She had no
where left to turn. Her mind was a frenzy, her thoughts
confused, everything became one large blur. Then, out of
complete frustration, fear, anger, and discomfort, she
blurted.
"Hey, you've got something on your teeth."
He licked the incisors, and presented them to her for
inspection. "All clear?"
"Yeah."
(\___ ___ ___/)
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³ \\__\ /__// TNH BBS. [2112] WHQ. NUP: Woodstock. 817.346.3370. ³
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