catRead the men’s story here.

John looked nervously at his watch and waited for the door to open. It was getting late, and he was now beginning to get nervous He hated the dentist, why did he have to go, and why did they make him wait?

After a few seconds, the door burst open, revealing a strange man.

“Next,” the strange man coughed, hurriedly.

“I assume you must be John”, he said, with an unfamiliar accent.

John stood up, brushing the sandwich crumbs from his waist, and headed toward the stranger, arm outstretch and eager for a reassuring handshake.

The man stepped back hurriedly, stammering “woah, woah, woah; did they not tell you about that?”

John looked confused for a moment, and then he saw what was on the dentist’s gloved hand.

“This is my pet cat Ralph” the dentist said pointing to the biro image scrawled onto his glove, “say hello Ralph, Erro!”

John stared at the glove, then at the dentist, unable to respond. John stammered a bit and stared at the floor; a bead of sweat hovered on the tip of his nose, he coughed and nervously cleared his throat, checked his watch yet again, scanned the room for a friendly face, maybe a cute hygienist like the ones he sees in commercials for those vocational schools, or maybe a different dentist who did not own a cat named Ralph.

“Don’t worry”, the dentist said reassuringly while pointing at his glove, “this cat KNOWS teeth. In fact, this cat grew up with teeth!”

Erm, I’ll be honest with you Dr. Slocum, and admit that I am quite alarmed by the very sight of your pussy…

“Forget about the cat” said the doctor with a stern face, “on the phone yesterday you said you had something very serious that you wanted to discuss with me?”

“Yeah,” he responded, “but I was just thinking that if our lives right now was part of a story it’d be really boring, so what do you say we get out of here and I’ll explain my situation on the way?”

The dentist snapped off his gloves to reveal his gnarled hands, deeply scarred palms and mutilated fingers. John gasped in horror, and before he could close his mouth the dentist reached inside and, just like a magician extracting a rabbit, pulled out a kitten. The kitten was very thin, and looked like it could have used a good meal, but there was also something very strange about it.

The dentist dropped it into a kidney dish, where it lay twitching as he handed it to a hygienist. “If you’ll step this way.” he said, walking back through the door and snapping his glove back on.

At the snapping of the rubber glove, John sat up in bed with a gasp, dripping with sweat . “That same, damn dream again!” He thought. “What does it mean?”

John began to reconsider his money-saving move to an NHS dentist… He weighed up the aching pain in his gum line with the trepidation he was now feeling, and eventually took the plunge, following the dentist through the open doorway. This is wrong, thought John, I am dreaming; I wonder if I can control this dream and seduce that dental hygenist or fly out of the window; the possibilities are endless.

Endless like the trouser snakes of the Finnish potato conglomerate, who came second in the Queen Victoria impersonation competition team division.

He opened his eyes and found himself awake in his room — or was he?
His gaze was drawn to a selection of dental equipment lying on his bedside cabinet. He then woke up one last time, just for good measure.

“Mnnnffh!” he rolled off the bed and hit the floor, hard.

As he bit his lip through the pain, he tasted some blood, as he wedged his tongue to the area of the source, he noticed he was missing a tooth. Wincing from the pain, John took in his surroundings properly for the first time and realised with horror that it wasn’t his room at all, he hadn’t been dreaming and the sickly-looking kitten the dentist had produced from his mouth earlier was currently nibbling at his toe. Bored rigid with the kitten thread, he launched it over the hedge and into the canal.


Right, he thought, I’m hungry. And I feel like chicken tonight.


Then, suddenly, it dawned on him: this was out of the ordinary. John, being a veterinarian vegetarian, would never hurt a kitten let alone eat meat. He had given up that habit a couple of years ago. John looked at his watch, the numbers read 21:42. Was it really that late? Besides, 21:42? Isn’t that half the Answer divided by the Answer itself? He looked again, this time instead of numbers the watch showed a picture of a cat riding an invisible bike.

What was going on?

He turned round at the sound of the rumble from the canal, as it started to bubble vigorously.

“Are you John?” said a hollow voice from the corner.
“I have a message for you”, said the mystic figure as it stepped in front of John. Right then, John realized what was this creepy ‘thing’ talking to him.
The Kitten was holding a big dusty book in its paws and it was wearing a black robe with a hood.

“My message is…”

The strange kitten opened its mouth, but before any sound could be heard, suddenly a bright light and terrible screaming filled John’s mind…

A train, its searing headlight pointing its way into the darkness, came thundering through the living room, trapping the lovely hygenist in its path.
John, couldnt make head nor tail of this day, he was sure he was at a canal and not in a living room, he sat down when an empty packed of magic mushrooms fell out his pocket…

“This is not possible,” thought John. “I have never in my life used drugs, well, nothing other than a few drinks socially.”

As he chewed thoughtfully on a particularly large mushroom, he saw in his direct line of sight an elephant throwing a succession of molotov cocktails at an effigy of himself.

“Ha flattened his tie and rehersed his greeting in his mind”

“Deep down inside everyone’s a skeleton, after all” thought John.

“Hello Mathilda, we haven’t spoke in many years, why did you take me to see Santa?”

John was perplexed; both his actions and experiences didn’t correspond to his usual demeanor even after accounting for the fact he had decided to be more open to experiences.

Not being open to experiences had after all brought about the untimely death of his beloved pussy, when the hygenist had accidentally driven over it in her wheelchair, as she went tearing along, high on magic mushrooms and under the delusion that she was Ben Hur, in the famous chariot race scene that had helped her father’s best friend’s cousin’s favourite film win 11 oscars.

Glancing in the mirror, he noticed that two of his teeth were now missing, ” am I awake or asleep ? ” he shouted.

Suddenly John became aware of a feminine voice within his head, and was suddenly gasping for air as the story began to sink in the river, John, who was once a training partner for that guy with all the gold medals, swam to safety and sat back against a rock while the story that had previously controlled his day sank into the river, all that remained was the memory of seeing a dentist and the tasted of pussy in his mouth.

Then – all of a sudden – he remembered the rule: Just one sentence each!

When it did, he was really sorry he waited.

John realised he was safe at last, so he whipped out his laptop and decided to take part in Richard Wisemans Story experiment, only to find himself deep in an unfathomable spacetime paradox, “will the action of writing affect my absurd reality?” he wondered one last time as he wrote the words ‘John disappeared into thin air’

John, in a delightful paradise, then greeted various Buddhas, Jesus, Godhead and Tupac, making contact with earth one last time to write, “There is more than science, and we may not discover that through science!”


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