"There'll be a little pinch," the doctor said, "and after that, you won't feel anything. By the time we're finished, your tooth will be better than new." "Beh-uh? Ow beh-uh?" She looked up from the reclined chair, the cheap, sterilized sunglasses making the doctor and her assistant into shadowy creatures.

"Well, no more pain, for one thing." The doctor chuckled. "The thirty-three... no, thirty-five." Tool in hand, she continued. "But beyond that... have you ever wanted to be venomous?"

"Wuh? Eh-eh-uh?"

"Yes," she said as she worked. "Able to inject venom with a bite."

"Ai uh ayhk?"

She saw a smile through the doctor's mask. "Yes! Exactly like a snake. The gland I'm using is from the common rattlesnake. Not the strongest venom, but if you like it, we can always upgrade."

"Aih uhss ee-uh oh uh oooh ah-ahl!"

"This is better than a root canal? Clamp her."

Twenty minutes later, the patient rose full of righteous indignation. The doctor only shook her hand and thanked her for participation in studying the effect of fear and stress on dental operations, as permitted by the waiver. Exploring the tooth with her tongue, she found it felt entirely normal.

And somewhat disappointing.