A Little Drilling
Vincent was a dentist,
By far the worst about.
Instead of keeping in your teeth,
He loved to rip them out!
He'd stuff his hand into your mouth
And grope around your gum,
Until he found a throbbing tooth
To squeeze beneath his thumb.
Then, pulling on his rubber gloves,
He'd whisper: "This wont hurt,
But if you try to kick or scream
You'll get blood down your shirt!"
After revving up his power drill,
He'd plunge inside your gob
And take your teeth out, one by one,
A grisly, thorough job.
And if you cried: "Pleabe stob it now!
Pleabe leabe me some to chew! "
He'd grin and wink an evil eye
Then take another two.
Well one day in the blood-stained chair
There sat a man named Pete,
A workman from the Council
Who was digging up the street.
"Open wide," said Vincent,
Then rubbed his hands with glee,
As there in Pete's back-molars
He spied a cavity.
"Oh what a shame!" Vincent exclaimed.
"You're going to need a filling,
But first I think I really ought
To try a little drilling."
"I could come back another day,"
Said Pete a little worried.
"You must have other patients
And I hate you to be hurried."
"Oh dear me, no," laughed Vincent
As he started up his drill,
"This shouldn't take a jiffy
And I've tons of time to kill!"
So Pete lay back with mouth agape
And tried hard to relax
By counting hairs up Vincent's nose
And tracing ceiling cracks.......
I can't describe what happened next;
The Drill! .... The Pain! .... The Blood!
I really can't describe it
And I wouldn't if I could.
Alas Pete couldn't take it.
He was not a pretty sight.
His eyes were wide, his face was pale,
In fact he'd died of fright.
But whilst the toothless body
had clearly sucked the dust,
Pete's ghost remained to claim revenge
Poetically just.
The ghost thought for a moment,
Then hit upon a plan,
But first he'd have to borrow something
From his workman's van.
So he nipped out to the roadworks,
Just flew straight through the wall,
Which you can do if you're a ghost,
It's no big deal at all!
When he returned Vincent was gone,
The chair was empty too,
'Cos Vince had chopped the body up
And flushed it down the loo!
But Vince came back, still giggling
His hands still red with gore,
So Pete floated round behind him
And quickly locked the door.
Now, some ghosts have a talent
To move things with their mind.
They're commonly called poltergeists
And Pete was of this kind.
He snatched up Vince, then hurled him down,
Within his dentist's chair
And though Vince tried to struggle free
He couldn't move a hair.
"Peep-bo!" said Pete as he appeared
Floating overhead.
"Remember me? I am the one
That you just left for dead!
Now, please don't feel I bear a grudge
About that little killing.
It's just I thought I really ought
To try a little drilling!"
Well, Vincent's eyes began to bulge,
His blood began to chill,
As Pete the workman started up
His GHOST, PNEUMATIC DRILL!
"I'm sure that this wont hurt a bit!"
Pete screamed above the din.
Then wrenching open Vincent's mouth
He rammed the road-drill in . . .
Again, I think what happened next
Is better left unsaid.
But though they found Vince in his chair
They never found his head!!! |
