I may have to have a tooth pulled out,
and
I'd like it to have a decent burial.
If only Macro-Mortia would set up an
office
near me... I'd be able to browse all of
their
oddly shaped coffins, each one custom
built to take a single unwanted body
part,
right down to a single tooth,
like mine.
I could chose to have a viewing, so that
my
friends and guests could come and file
past the open casket, peering in at the
troublesome molar, laying there, partly
swathed in its little shroud.
Words of appropriate wisdom would be
dutifully imparted to the solemn
gathering, outlining the difficult life
history of my poor departed tooth: - the
chocolate bars it endured, the sugary
drinks, the endless coffees, the lack of
flossing....
The tiny coffin would be borne to a
miniature grave on the back of a
remotely
controlled toy hearse, the demure resting
being
place forever remembered by a shrunken
dental chart, marking its numbered gap.
Macro-Mortia would handle everything -
the
obituary notices, the donations to The
Gum Lobby, the quarter inch wreaths.
Once a year I could come and plant
another painted toothpick to celebrate
the
life and times of my dearly departed
molar.