Trough.
Which is…I’ll admit it.
Weird.
But not that weird.
I meanwhatthefucknames aredefinitelyout there.
Pilot Inspektor.
Bear Blaze.
Moon Unit.
Hell, I’ve even got a pro rally driver named Dingo that I’ve performed three root canals on in the last year.
Odd names are a real thing.
It would just make my social media searches a little less cringe if I had a last name to attach it to.
The thought of Dingo leads to me shifting subjects, “Soooo…who are my guest stars for the day?”
Rhonnie casually clicks a couple keys on her computer prior to reading out, “You’ve got toothless, gutless, sunless, funless and then hopeless as well as planless after lunch.”
There’s no stopping me from mirthfully scolding, “Rhonda.”
“What?” She swings one black scrub covered leg over the other and gestures towards her screen. “He’smissingsooooomany teeth.”
“Looft. He’s actually on the hockey team my brother coaches-”
“That’s the one Bull is the team dentist for?”
“Right.”
“Partnering for itthroughthe practice.”
“Right again.”
“Just like I’m right about toothless missing an ass load of teeth.”
“He’s only missing four.”
“So. Many.”
“And he’s coming in for an apicoectomy.”
“Uh-huh,” another flick with her finger is made to the computer, “shewhines about anything we won’t put her under for.”
“Frank. Doctenn tennis player. Coming in for a cracked tooth.”
“He’spaler than Elle Fanning.”
“Lourd.Tabletennis player originally from Mistletoe, Montana. Also coming in for a cracked tooth.”
“He neverfucking smiles.”
“Alkac. Cricket player. Root canal.”
