This crazy dame drank milk like there was no tomorrow, and then she'd drink
more when tomorrow came in case the new tomorrow didn't come. With tomorrow
always arriving and the threat of no new tomorrow always on the cards, she
drank more milk. With excess comes suffering.
She was faced with stereotypically Jewish relatives growing up; they dropped
Yiddish words into the conversation and squeezed her cheeksface until she
looked like a fat trout in a wind tunnel - and if you've ever had a fat
trout in your wind tunnel you'll know the face I mean. Badoom tshhhhhh. They
didn't subscribe to the other tenets of Judaism, just the squeezing and
calling people nudniks. Mix and match I suppose; they seemed happy (but
weren't). Crazy dame knew that if she didn't take action, her cheeks would
lose their elasticity and be hanging around her pert breasts by the time she
was nineteen, so she took the first step on that dangerous road to drinking
too much milk: she held milk in her mouth like a teetotal hamster having a
liquid lunch.
They learnt quickly not to squeeze. "Bist meshugeh? I'm all shmutzik now..."
Still she held the milk in her mouth, fearing a sneak attack. Milk sours
quickly when kept at body temperature; she sucked it through her teeth and
poured herself another glass, and another, and another. She liked the taste.
Protection led to enjoyment; by the time she was twelve she was up to eight
cows a day, and still she kept drinking more. Her mother and father both
took on extra jobs to keep the crazy dame in milk, her grandmother started
charging the people she had sex with. "It's good for her; she's a growing
girl. Better she drinks milk than spends her time shtupping that shaigitz."
If her teeth weren't so strong, she'd have chipped a tooth on the first
calcium deposit that appeared in her mouth. She spat it out and drank some
more. More and more little bits of calcium came and were spat. She continued
to drink; it was only a matter of time before the calcium deposits stuck to
her teeth. More time, more milk, more build-up on the teeth. The first time
her teeth grew together it was just a small bond, and she was able to pull
them apart just feeling a little tackiness in her mouth. More time, more
milk, more build-up, more sticking together, more pulling apart, more time,
more milk, more build-up, more sticking together, the sticking together
stuck. Her teeth were joined firmly, her jaw was naturally wired shut.
There were still gaps between her teeth through which she could suck milk.
Her only source of nutrition (bar the occasional krill) meant she had to
carry on drinking milk; normal people would have seen a dentist when they
couldn't open their mouth, but normal people would also not have drunk so
much milk that their teeth joined together. [Time passes interestingly and
dramatically]. The fateful day came when she had no more gaps and she sought
the advice of a dentist. Any attempt to separate the upper and lower sets of
teeth would have led to splintering, unusable teeth and agonised gums.
Drilling a hole through the front of the teeth would have meant ridicule and
embarrassment. Her cheeks were pulled as wide open as they could and a large
drill was taken around the corner to drill through the lumps of calcium and
teeth at the side. It took a long time to drill through the near diamond
strength teeth and her cheeks suffered horribly, leaving them dangling when
all was completed. Black lines were drawn on the front of her teeth to
represent gaps and she was ordered never to drink milk again, just to poke
bits of mashed up food through the holes at the side.
The lines on her teeth gave her a look of a permanent cute smile. Aged
relatives swarmed to play with her dangly cheeks, soon discovering that they
could squeeze them and have their finger and thumb meet in the middle of her
mouth. Her cheeks became saggier and saggier. The very thing she sought to
avoid became visited upon her because of her excess. There's ironic.