Little shop of horrors

Little shop of horrors pt 3

"R-Right." He subconsciously touched the bandages on his fingers.

"And the attitude," he looked up, making eye contact with Seymour who quickly looked away. "Took me up on my offer?"

"Something like that..." Seymour cleared his throat. "A-About yesterday--"

"That wisdom tooth still giving ya trouble?" Orin asked, standing up. "I can take care of that for you, Krelborn."

"Oh, no. Well, yes," Seymour touched his cheek where Orin's hand had previously laid. "But it's not about that--"

"Hey," Orin said with a patronising tone. "Are you a little bit nervous about seeing the dentist?"

"No! No... I'm not nervous I--"

"It's only gonna hurt a little," Orin said calmly as he stalked his way towards Seymour like a lion ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.

"No you don't understand, I wanted to ask you--"

"Say 'ah'." He calmly commanded.

"You see, I wanted to ask if you were a little--"

"Say 'ah'!" Orin shouted, twisting Seymour's arm.

"AAAH!" Seymour yelled as the strength of Orin's grip forced him to the ground.

"It's still a mess. Did you even brush after our last chat?" He said teasingly, placing a hand on Seymour's head.

Seymour hoped Orin couldn't see the red blush creeping onto his face. "I-I did a little."

"Well clearly you didn't do enough. There's always time for dental hygiene, Krelborn." Orin stroked his hair, sending shivers down his spine and making his shoulder shake. Orin mistook that reaction for fear and chuckled. "It's okay to be afraid. I'll take good care of you."

He helped Seymour up, sitting him down on the dentist chair. "Have you ever seen the result of a neglected mouth?"

"N-No."

Orin showed him a photo, which was obviously a dog's mouth and not a human's. "This could happen to you."

"It could?" He exclaimed, worried.

"Unless I take immediate action!" Orin wheeled a tray of tools over to where Seymour sat.

"Wait, aren't you gonna give me any Novocaine?" He pleaded.

"What for? It'll dull the senses."

"It'll hurt!"

Orin looked at him with a smile that shouldn't have been comforting. "Only till you pass out."

He moved back to his desk and riffled through the draws until Seymour heard a clunk. He turned to see that Orin was brandishing a rusty old tool.

"Wh-What's that?"

"That's the drill, Krelborn." He held it up for Seymour to see.

"It's rusty," he argued.

"It's an antique," he said effectively as he stroked the tool. "They don't make instruments like these anymore. Heavy, sturdy," he looked Seymour in the eyes with a wicked grin. " Dull ."

Seymour gulped.

"This is gonna be a challenge. No," Orin placed his free hand on Seymour's shoulder. "This is going to be a pleasure." Orin removed it, much to Seymour's dismay. "I'm gonna want some gas for this one."

"Gas?"

"Nitrous oxide." He began to walk away.

"Oh, thank God," Seymour let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you weren't gonna use any."