Getting to the Root of the Problem...

In the still of night, when the world was in deep slumber - dark clouds covered the sky, rain pattered heavily on the window, thunder and lightning took their turns to provide the required sound and light effects, someone let out a shrill piercing scream...

Ok fine, that screaming dipshit from the previous paragraph was me and the only thing that is factual about the previous paragraph is probably the fact that it actually was at night and I was warming the couch in my hostel room. The cause of the wail - sharp, piercing pain in my tooth. I was unable to get any sleep that night and even prayed to God that Id do a 101 rounds if s/he could make the pain go away. But oh well, God is a quack - he is no dentist. So, the pain stayed. Anyway, the next morning when I got up, I decided to seek out my 'friends, philosophers & guides' a.k.a other retards like me in the hostel.

((Quick Background) - I developed a cavity some 2034 years back, kept postponing it, befriended a cat which said if I close my eyes the problem would go away (bastard lying feline! He can go to the dogs!), the cavity spread deep due to my nonchalance and my ignorance and f'ed up tooth and hence I had to get RCT)

So, the next day, the entire Retard Posse gathered in my room to offer their expert advice. There is one thing about all of us - we all believe in the same motto - "Opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one". Somehow, the posse got a whiff that I was looking for some advice and they swarmed in hordes. I mentioned that my tooth hurts and here's how the conversation went from there on :

Retarded Posse member 1: "R.C.T is like walking through hell, fire and brimstone. That is like the movie SAW, if and when you get out of it, you will realise the true value of life!"

Retarded Posse member 2: "Oh shit! You are F*cked man!...you hear me??...F**KED!!! Gaand lag gayi teri! Koi hope nahi hai! Whoever I have seen going for that root canal stuff has come back with tears running down his cheeks!"

Retarded Posse member 3: "Deeeeeiii! Trust me.....its bad! Baaaaaaad!"

Retarded Posse member 4: "Believe me...its horrible. I know a couple of friends who got it done. One is a friend from college. He used to live in the street behind me. They had a green house. Both of us had a blast in college all through. The first chemistry class we sat in, we tried to pataofy the class teacher" (interruption from me: "Uhm, the RCT thing?") "Oh yeah! You are fucked. The other friend who went to the dentist, he got up in the morning, then brushed his teeth. Then he went and had breakfast. Im not sure what he had but it could have been anything. Then he took a shower. I watching TV in my room around this time......(this rambling went on and on until the rest of the posse passed out and nobody knows what happened afterwards)

So anyway after the posse bludgeoned me into oblivion with their constant drivel about how going for my RCT was in reality the coming of the, I shivered my ass along to the hospital with Bonnie (Im Clyde BTW). I was still hoping I might be let off with a mild filling etc etc. When my time came, a Chinky with a very 'utensil-dropping' name(but good looking) took me in for preliminary tests. She had prescribed RCT before I could complete telling her my name. So I trudged along to the next department for my date with the Reaper with Bonnie sporadically passing encouraging or mocking comments all through (tilting more towards the latter because she giggled with an evil look more often than not).

I had just finished writing my will, informing my parents that I might not be coming home for this Diwali and the ones thereafter, deciding on my last wish, last meal (well this was anyway not going to happen) when the White reaper called me in. Some people recall in the aftermath that it seems I tried to claw my way through the walls and tried to dig a hole through the tiled floor with my bare hands but was finally subdued with Horse tranquilizer and taken to the seat, but I dont remember anything since my mind was a complete blank from pre-dental trauma. Local anasthesia was given and in a few minutes I was replying to anything the doctor said with "bloobe fublaa gooolloobabo" (translated as: I think I can still feel my teeth). After I repeated it some 10 times, the doctor was wondering as to why the drug wasnt taking effect. Finally he asked me, "what the hell I actually was feeling???" I replied in complete earnest "I think I can still feel my tongue and my tongue touching my teeth". The doc suddenly turned green, ripped out of his shirt, grew to 3 times his size and attacked me with a syringe and forceps while screaming "You retarded fucking moron! I am to work on your teeth, not on your damn tongue! I dont give a fuck if you can feel the teeth on your tongue, you are not supposed to be feeling your teeth!!" (At this point, it was the doctor who needed to be restrained). As I kept on thinking about all the things I hadnt yet done before my life came to an end, the now-back-to-normal doc got up and said, "All done! you can leave now!". I was flabbergasted! All that came out of my mouth (besides the Hydrogen Peroxide and the Calcium Hydroxide) was "Goobla foobli googli" - but this time it was not because of the anasthesia - it was because of the delight at not having felt a thing. I kept on blabbering with relief, joy and excitement while Bonnie patiently listened to my incessant drivel.

So, now I have a shiny crown and a full tooth, while I go about my business of getting back to business with the Retarded Posse so that the next person who comes along complaining of RCT, then we can confidently tell him "You are FUBAR! If they dont give you anasthesia, doesnt matter, youll pass out from the pain itself! It will be as painful as sliding down a tree saw, while the saw is moving upwards! It will be like running full sprint on thumbtacks barefoot! It will be like inserting a closed divider into your dickhole and then opening it up....."

OK - Ill stop here - My tooth's better and I think Im crossing into sick territory....