Saturday Night Creature Feature
ptownnyc is currently at the dentist. While he experiences existential torture, he leaves you with this cautionary tale to enjoy.
Jim walked into the examination room with more than a touch of fear in his heart. It had been a number of years since he had willingly sat in the dentist's chair, and the mere sight of it crouching before him below the harsh blue light made him break out in goose-pimples all over his body. The walk from the doorway to the chair felt as if it took forever, a slow journey like that of a man on his way to the hangman's noose, slow and terrifying but that you never wish would never end. He sat, and the dental assistant placed the paper shield over his chest, gently reached around his neck with the chain that supported it, and clasped the loose end to the edge. The clasp gleamed evilly in the overhead light, a dragon's jaw crammed with sharp teeth leering at him with wicked enjoyment.
"Now, don't you worry Mr. Nelson, it'll be fine. Dr. Gacy will be in shortly, and you'll see, he's wonderful. In no time at all you will be feeling no pain!"
Jim settled back, and tried to relax. There was no sound in the examination room, no sound except the slow ticking of a clock on the wall. The entire office was silent, in fact. He appeared to be the only patient there. He sat and felt time stretch, the ticking of the clock becoming slower and slower as his fear built up again. He had no wish to be here at all, but persistent pain in a back molar had at last become so unbearable he had no choice but to come in. Jim had bad experiences with dentists in the past, including his childhood dentist who, for the first eighteen years of his life, insisted on drilling cavities and doing all other dental work without Novocaine or any other pain killer. When Jim finally found out that this was not, in fact, normal, he nearly hunted down and murdered the dentist. He didn't, though; his fear of the man was too great.
In the subsequent years Jim went to dentists occasionally, but his paranoia about them was so strong he never came back after a single visit. This time, when his molar went bad, he found himself at a loss as to where to go, so he turned to the Internet and began searching locally. There were so many to choose from, and he felt increasingly lost in the list; then, he found Dr. Gacy's website. Dr. Gacy made a specialty of "working with those who have had bad dental experiences in the past," to help them "get past the suffering." He promised that after a visit with him, you would never fear a dentist again. His smiling face on the website was reassuring, almost jolly looking. He projected a great sense of humor.
Jim heard a noise, and turned to watch Dr. Gacy walk in. He was a tall man, very round around the middle, with a fringe of red hair, a bulbous nose, and peculiarly large feet. He nearly bounced into the room, and heartily said "Hi Jim! How are you doing today!"
"Not so well, Dr. Gacy. I have an incredible pain in a molar on my right side, and it is keeping me awake at night."
"Well, Jim, we can't have that!" Dr. Gacy said. "Open your mouth and let me take a look around!"
Dr. Gacy poked around inside Jim's mouth, carefully avoiding the sore tooth. Finally, he turned to Jim.
"Well, Jim, you have quite a cavity there! We really need to clean it up so we can get rid of that pain. But don't you worry - we'll take care of it and before you know it you won't be hurting anymore!"
He lowered Jim's chair until it was nearly flat. Then he reached for a face mask attached to a tube, pulled it forward and placed it on Jim's face. "Here Jim, this is nitrous oxide, otherwise known as "Laughing Gas." We'll just give you a dose of this and you'll be ready for the procedure!"
Jim looked up as Dr. Gacy turned the dial, and suddenly fear filled his heart. There was a wicked gleam in the doctor's eyes, and as Jim tried to rise a large hand pressed him down into the seat. Dr. Gacy cranked up the nitrous oxide into a blast of gas directly into Jim's face. Terrified, Jim gasped, inhaling a deep breath of the laughing gas. As he passed out, the last thing he saw was the searing blue light of the overhead lamp. Then, darkness.
A while later Jim slowly came to, and was disoriented. It took him some time to remember where he was, as the examination room had changed significantly while he was unconscious. The blue light was gone, covered by a deep red filter that flooded the examination room with a dark, blood colored light. Next to him was a tray, with a wide array of gleaming metal tools carefully laid out on a neat white cloth. He had never even imagined such tools in his life - each one was practically pregnant with evil, and the mere sight of them was condensed horror. He tried to rise, and discovered that he was bound to the chair, hands, feet, waist and chest, and that there was a further strap around his neck and forehead holding him firmly into place. He couldn't move an inch in any direction.
"Dr. Gacy! Nurse! What's going on?" he screamed. No one answered. "Help me! Let me go!"
He carried on for a while, until at last he heard a noise. Slowly, an ominous "flap flap flap" noise starting coming down the hallway, a sound like rubber mats being slapped against a hard surface. The flapping picked up its pace until it was repeating with terrifying speed, and all at once a figure lept into the blood-lit examination room.
It was a clown.
The clown was Dr. Gacy. His head and neck were now covered in what appeared to be white greasepaint, and large black circles had been painted around his eyes, running in black tears down his cheeks. His teeth were now huge, yellow, and pointed, and his nose had turned a bright red, bright enough to match the fringe of red hair surrounding his dome-like head. He wore a one-piece suit all of white, which appeared almost pink in the light, a suit with yellow buttons. The suit was coated with what looked like splashes of brown paint, from collar to cuffs, dark, crusty-looking splashes. On his huge feet were large yellow shoes.
He stank like a slaughterhouse.
"Well, Jim, are we ready to begin? I see my nurse has prepared everything." He walked over to the tray, and picked up a particularly savage, serrated looking tool of shining steel. "Now, you remember what I promised on the website, right? I do indeed specialize in those who have had bad experiences with dentists in the past, and I promise, when I am done with you, you will never feel pain again! But, in the meantime ..."
The clown leaned down toward Jim, and that is when Jim began to scream like a madman. Abruptly, the scream shifted to a shriek of utter agony.
Jim carried on like this for almost the entire six hours of the treatment, but Dr. Gacy did not lie. When the session was over, Jim never felt pain again.
Jim walked into the examination room with more than a touch of fear in his heart. It had been a number of years since he had willingly sat in the dentist's chair, and the mere sight of it crouching before him below the harsh blue light made him break out in goose-pimples all over his body. The walk from the doorway to the chair felt as if it took forever, a slow journey like that of a man on his way to the hangman's noose, slow and terrifying but that you never wish would never end. He sat, and the dental assistant placed the paper shield over his chest, gently reached around his neck with the chain that supported it, and clasped the loose end to the edge. The clasp gleamed evilly in the overhead light, a dragon's jaw crammed with sharp teeth leering at him with wicked enjoyment.
"Now, don't you worry Mr. Nelson, it'll be fine. Dr. Gacy will be in shortly, and you'll see, he's wonderful. In no time at all you will be feeling no pain!"
Jim settled back, and tried to relax. There was no sound in the examination room, no sound except the slow ticking of a clock on the wall. The entire office was silent, in fact. He appeared to be the only patient there. He sat and felt time stretch, the ticking of the clock becoming slower and slower as his fear built up again. He had no wish to be here at all, but persistent pain in a back molar had at last become so unbearable he had no choice but to come in. Jim had bad experiences with dentists in the past, including his childhood dentist who, for the first eighteen years of his life, insisted on drilling cavities and doing all other dental work without Novocaine or any other pain killer. When Jim finally found out that this was not, in fact, normal, he nearly hunted down and murdered the dentist. He didn't, though; his fear of the man was too great.
In the subsequent years Jim went to dentists occasionally, but his paranoia about them was so strong he never came back after a single visit. This time, when his molar went bad, he found himself at a loss as to where to go, so he turned to the Internet and began searching locally. There were so many to choose from, and he felt increasingly lost in the list; then, he found Dr. Gacy's website. Dr. Gacy made a specialty of "working with those who have had bad dental experiences in the past," to help them "get past the suffering." He promised that after a visit with him, you would never fear a dentist again. His smiling face on the website was reassuring, almost jolly looking. He projected a great sense of humor.
Jim heard a noise, and turned to watch Dr. Gacy walk in. He was a tall man, very round around the middle, with a fringe of red hair, a bulbous nose, and peculiarly large feet. He nearly bounced into the room, and heartily said "Hi Jim! How are you doing today!"
"Not so well, Dr. Gacy. I have an incredible pain in a molar on my right side, and it is keeping me awake at night."
"Well, Jim, we can't have that!" Dr. Gacy said. "Open your mouth and let me take a look around!"
Dr. Gacy poked around inside Jim's mouth, carefully avoiding the sore tooth. Finally, he turned to Jim.
"Well, Jim, you have quite a cavity there! We really need to clean it up so we can get rid of that pain. But don't you worry - we'll take care of it and before you know it you won't be hurting anymore!"
He lowered Jim's chair until it was nearly flat. Then he reached for a face mask attached to a tube, pulled it forward and placed it on Jim's face. "Here Jim, this is nitrous oxide, otherwise known as "Laughing Gas." We'll just give you a dose of this and you'll be ready for the procedure!"
Jim looked up as Dr. Gacy turned the dial, and suddenly fear filled his heart. There was a wicked gleam in the doctor's eyes, and as Jim tried to rise a large hand pressed him down into the seat. Dr. Gacy cranked up the nitrous oxide into a blast of gas directly into Jim's face. Terrified, Jim gasped, inhaling a deep breath of the laughing gas. As he passed out, the last thing he saw was the searing blue light of the overhead lamp. Then, darkness.
A while later Jim slowly came to, and was disoriented. It took him some time to remember where he was, as the examination room had changed significantly while he was unconscious. The blue light was gone, covered by a deep red filter that flooded the examination room with a dark, blood colored light. Next to him was a tray, with a wide array of gleaming metal tools carefully laid out on a neat white cloth. He had never even imagined such tools in his life - each one was practically pregnant with evil, and the mere sight of them was condensed horror. He tried to rise, and discovered that he was bound to the chair, hands, feet, waist and chest, and that there was a further strap around his neck and forehead holding him firmly into place. He couldn't move an inch in any direction.
"Dr. Gacy! Nurse! What's going on?" he screamed. No one answered. "Help me! Let me go!"
He carried on for a while, until at last he heard a noise. Slowly, an ominous "flap flap flap" noise starting coming down the hallway, a sound like rubber mats being slapped against a hard surface. The flapping picked up its pace until it was repeating with terrifying speed, and all at once a figure lept into the blood-lit examination room.
It was a clown.
The clown was Dr. Gacy. His head and neck were now covered in what appeared to be white greasepaint, and large black circles had been painted around his eyes, running in black tears down his cheeks. His teeth were now huge, yellow, and pointed, and his nose had turned a bright red, bright enough to match the fringe of red hair surrounding his dome-like head. He wore a one-piece suit all of white, which appeared almost pink in the light, a suit with yellow buttons. The suit was coated with what looked like splashes of brown paint, from collar to cuffs, dark, crusty-looking splashes. On his huge feet were large yellow shoes.
He stank like a slaughterhouse.
"Well, Jim, are we ready to begin? I see my nurse has prepared everything." He walked over to the tray, and picked up a particularly savage, serrated looking tool of shining steel. "Now, you remember what I promised on the website, right? I do indeed specialize in those who have had bad experiences with dentists in the past, and I promise, when I am done with you, you will never feel pain again! But, in the meantime ..."
The clown leaned down toward Jim, and that is when Jim began to scream like a madman. Abruptly, the scream shifted to a shriek of utter agony.
Jim carried on like this for almost the entire six hours of the treatment, but Dr. Gacy did not lie. When the session was over, Jim never felt pain again.