Deep Dark & Cold

As I lay in the dentists chair, I can see nothing but the death white ceiling behind the bright light at the end of the metallic arm now above me. I hear a buzz and a clank of cold stainless steel. 'Do not be troubled, dear'-- she says in a sweet motherly voice. 'Is that a drill?' I ask in false confidence, like it was the most casual of things. 'No, dear, of course not. This is called an OBLITERATOR'.

Hell was turning out not to be nearly as fun the brochure suggested.