A TOOTHY STORY pt. 1
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ & ꜱᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ
"But, why? Karen they're
not even hurting or
growing in, yet!" "It's
preventative, Sheldon;
the x-ray showed potential
crowding." Karen responds
to her husband, Plankton.
It's the night before his
wisdom teeth extraction,
and she knew he's nervous.
Sheldon Plankton sighs,
running his tongue over his
back molars, feeling the
gums where the wisdom
teeth lurk beneath the
surface. But it does little
to distract from the looming
dental appointment tomorrow
morning.
He looks at his wife, Karen,
whose screen filled with
understanding. She's always
been the level-headed one,
calming him during their
most turbulent times.
"Don't worry, sweetheart,"
Karen says, stroking his
forehead gently, "You'll be
under anesthesia. You won't
feel a thing. It'll be like
a little nap, and when you
wake up, it'll all be over."
They go to bed, as they'll
have to get up early.
Plankton's always been a
light sleeper, usually the
last to fall asleep and/or
first to wake.
The anticipation of the
morning's dental procedure
keeps him tossing and
turning. The digital clock
on the nightstand clicks over
to 2 AM, its red digits
glowing like an accusation.
Karen has to take him in
three hours...
Karen's awake at 4:45.
Plankton lay beside her
snoring gently. She gently
shakes him. "Plankton," she
whispers, "it's time to get up."
He stirs, groaning softly,
eye fluttering open to the
dim room. "Ugh.."
Karen smiles softly, "Come
on, honey, we've got to get
going. The sooner we're there,
the sooner it's over."
With a heavy sigh, Plankton
gets up.
The drive to the dentist's
office is tense and quiet.
The soft hum of the car's
engine and the occasional
streetlight flickering outside
are the only sounds that
accompany them through the
desolate early morning streets.
They arrive at the clinic,
a modern building with sleek
glass walls that reflect the
pre-dawn light. Plankton's heart
thumps in his chest as he
follows Karen inside.
The receptionist, a cheery
woman named Becky, greets them
with a smile that seems almost
painfully bright at this hour.
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Plankton!"
she chirps. Plankton nods, trying
to match her energy, but his nerves
betray him. "You're here for your
wisdom teeth, right?" Becky asks,
typing away on her keyboard.
Plankton nods again, feeling a
wave of anxiety wash over him.
He's never been a fan of
the dentist, but this was a whole
new level of dental dread.
Karen notices this and
squeezes his hand reassuringly.
"Don't worry," Becky says,
noticing his distress, "Dr. Marlin is
the best. And our anesthesia
is top-notch. You won't feel a thing."
Plankton tries to smile, but it
comes out more as a grimace. "You'll be
so relaxed you won't even know
what's happening. It's like a
dreamless sleep. You'll wake up with
four less teeth and a much more
comfortable mouth!"
She leads them through the
hallway, the smell of antiseptic
strengthening with each step.
The walls are adorned with
soothing seascape paintings, an
obvious attempt to put patients
at ease. Plankton's heart rate
doesn't decrease, but he
appreciates the effort. They enter
the surgery room. The chair is
more like a recliner. Dr. Marlin,
a friendly-looking octopus, enters
the room, his tentacles
holding a clipboard.
"Good morning," he says in
a soothing tone. "Ready to get those
wisdom teeth out?"
Karen kisses him on the forehead
and whispers, "You got this."
Plankton nods, trying to convince
himself. The doctor explains
the procedure one last time,
his tentacles gesturing to the
various tools laid out on the tray.
The nurse, a clownfish named
Nina, starts to prep him, placing
a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"We're going to give you something
to bite down on to keep your
mouth open," Nina says, holding
up a plastic mouth prop. It looks
like a small version of an L-shaped
building block.
Plankton nods again.
The chair reclines back and the
overhead light shines down, casting
harsh shadows on the ceiling tiles.
Karen squeezes his hand once more
before stepping aside as Dr. Marlin
and Nina get to work.
The anesthesia is administered,
and the room starts to blur.
Plankton feels his body go
slack, the fear giving way
to a sudden calm. He hears
Karen's voice, faintly, saying,
"See you..."
And then, darkness.
Karen feels his hand go limp in
hers as the anesthesia takes hold.
She watches as Dr. Marlin's
tentacles swirl around Plankton's
open mouth. The nurse, Nina, holds
a small syringe filled with a clear
liquid, which she carefully administers
into his gums. Plankton's body relaxes
further, and he starts to snore as they
prod his numb gums, all while he's
remaining asleep.
The surgery goes by in a blur
for Karen, who sits in the chair
next to him, holding his hand. She
can hear the sounds of the
extraction tools, but she focuses on
his peaceful breathing and the
steady beep of the heart rate monitor.
The room is cool, the sterile
smell of the surgery room
comforting in its own way.
As the extraction begins, Plankton
doesn't stir. The doctor's tentacles
move with practiced precision,
each tug and pull a dance of surgical
skill. Nina stands by, her eyes
focused on the monitors, ensuring
his vital signs remain stable.
The first tooth is out. Karen can't
help but look away at the sound
of bone cracking, despite the doctor's
assurance that Plankton can't feel it.
Her eyes water, but she quickly
wipes the tears away, not wanting
to alarm the already unconscious
Plankton. She glances at the clock.
Only twenty minutes have passed.
Dr. Marlin strokes Plankton's
antennae. Nina nods along,
her attention mostly on Plankton.
The second tooth is extracted with
slightly more resistance. The doctor's
tentacles tug gently, applying the
right amount of pressure. Karen squeezes
his hand.
"It's okay," she whispers,
though she's not sure if he can hear.
The third tooth is the most stubborn,
requiring the use of a pair of forceps
that make a sound like a tiny
car wreck. Plankton's body jerks
slightly but he remains unconscious.
The doctor and nurse work in
harmony, their movements so swift
and coordinated that they almost seem
like a dance. The fourth tooth is
the quickest to come out, as if it
knew it was the last stand and gave
up without a fight.
Dr. Marlin nods to Nina, who
begins to suture Plankton's gums.
The needle pierces through the
swollen flesh with a sound that
makes Karen cringe, but Plankton
doesn't react at all. She watches as
Nina's nimble fins guide the thread
with the care of a master embroiderer,
stitching the flaps of gum back together.
Plankton's snoring remains steady
as they suture his numb gums.
Nina's fin deftly weaves the thread,
each stitch a silent promise
of a pain-free future. The tension
in the room slowly dissolves with
each completed suture. They use
dissolvable stitches, so they use
more anesthesia to numb the
inside of the gums before stitching
them up completely.
Dr. Marlin steps back, wiping
his tentacles with a towel.
"All done," he says with a smile.
The doctor rinses
Plankton's numb mouth
with saline of any
excess blood or
debris, and Karen
notices the
transformation:
his tense jaw relaxes,
his breathing deepens,
and his usually
active antennae are
still, as if he's sunk into
the deepest of slumbers.