by J.E. Mayers

I wanted to apologize for how I behaved during my last appointment. You were asking me all sorts of questions, and clearly trying to get a conversation going, and I was more or less unresponsive. I imagine this was uncomfortable for you, and I’m sorry if my silence came across as rude. The truth is that I wanted to respond, but I simply couldn’t while you alternated between double-fisting my face and waterboarding me. So, I thought I’d reach out and answer some of the questions you asked me while you simultaneously rendered me incapable of answering you.

First, you asked me how I’ve been, and I would’ve told you that I’ve been well if at the time my tongue wasn’t being completely crushed in order to accommodate the array of torture devices, miniature power tools, and the two adult-sized hands you somehow managed to cram into my clown-car mouth.

Next, you asked me how work has been, and I would’ve told you that work has been busy with summer just around the corner if at the time I wasn’t getting fish-hooked by that suction thing while the fluorinated fluid you were power-washing my teeth with, the same fluid that suction thing was supposed to be sucking up, began slowly filling my lungs.

Then, you asked me how my love life has been going, and I would’ve told you that I recently decided to ask my girlfriend to move in (it’s a big step, I know) if at the time I wasn’t being worn like an upside-down sock puppet and getting orally violated by your latex-clad dildo fingers like the sub in an orthodontist-themed BDSM porno.

And finally, you asked me if we had any exciting plans for the weekend, and I would’ve told you that we were actually looking forward to a quiet weekend at home if at that point I hadn’t already drowned, and my disembodied soul wasn’t helplessly watching as water overflowed out my open gullet like a clogged gas station toilet while you and your team took turns desperately trying to resuscitate my pale, lifeless body.

I want you to know that, if my jaw wasn’t so sore, and I wasn’t so busy coughing up the blood, saliva, and water I had aspirated following the appointment, I would’ve apologized that day. But anyway, I hope you now understand why I was so reticent, and you will accept my belated apology. Despite everything, I’m actually looking forward to my next appointment, which I’ve gone ahead and scheduled with another fucking dentist.