Well, this is a little fic to keep me entertained until school lets out and I can continue with my other fics. On Friday the 16 I'll update each one of my stories as a celebration because it's the last day of school. Enjoy!

Eight people were sprawled out all over a shabby loft in New York City, recollecting on old times. These people included Mark, Roger, Collins, Mimi, Maureen, Joanne, Angel and Benny.

"I have an idea!" Maureen suddenly said excitedly, breaking the bored silence, "Why don't we choose a topic, and describe our first time with it!"

"But what if you don't remember?" Mark asked.

"Then do the first one you remember." Maureen answered simply.

It sounded simple enough and thus the trip down Firsts Road began.

Trip to the Dentist

Mark was always at the dentist. Not because his teeth were in bad shape, but because his dad was a dentist. When it was their turn to visit Dad (their parents were divorced), he'd take Cindy and Mark to work with him.

Mark didn't remember his first time to the dentist, but he did remember the first time he went to Dad's office without Cindy.

Mark sat in the back of his dad's car, shivering with nervousness. At six he was a very shy child and was frightened of the skinny, geeky man in the front seat whose glasses were continuously falling down his nose. Mark had always been told he looked like his father (other than his blond hair and blue eyes, which he'd gotten from his mother, who's great-grandparents were from Sweden). Of course, the boy wasn't sure if looking like his dad was good or bad.

Mark paled and started whimpering when the 'scary man' in the front seat glanced back at him.

"Hey Mark," his dad said.

Mark wasn't sure what to say. Mommy had told him this man was his daddy, but what about the daddy back home? The one who was Monica and Geraldine's daddy? If he was daddy, who was this stranger driving him to who-knows-where?

"H-H-hi," Mark replied meekly.

As if he could read Mark's mind, the man said, "You know what Mark? I don't want to confuse you. Daddy may be back home with Cindy and Mommy, but I'm your real daddy. But, as I said, I don't want to confuse you, so just call me Rick, okay?"

Mark nodded. Rick. Daddy at home, and Rick on the weekends. He could keep that straight.

They soon arrived at the office and Mark struggled to read the sign posted above the building.

"D-d-deen-te-e-est. Dentist! Dacktur…Duckteer…oh, Doctor Reechurd Cohen (he recognized his last name), DDS." Mark said proudly.

Rick smiled and nodded. "That's right Mark, dentist. Doctor Richard Cohen, DDS. That's me. Do you know what a dentist is Mark?"

Mark nodded. "Yup. It's a guy that fixes peoples' tooths."

"Do you want to help me 'fix people's teeth' Mark?" Rick asked.

Mark's eyes lit up. "Oh yes!" he squealed.
Roger grumbled under his breath. Now that mom had finally gotten a job with a dental plan he was going to the dentist. He'd heard bad stories about dentists before. Or was it just the stories that he made up to scare the little kids? Like how dentist's had long, razor sharp claws that cut your teeth out. He'd must have made that one up.

"Hello there Roger," a woman said sweetly, "How are you."

"Why do you give a shit?" Roger asked, wowing the hygienist with his crude language.

"Because I'm here to be your friend," the woman finally answered.

"Yeah right."

"Roger, how old are you?"

"Eight."

The hygienist's eyes grew wide. "That's some pretty interesting talk for an eight-year-old."

"Oh fuck off babe." Roger said, not completely understanding everything.

The hygienist was flabbergasted. "Where did you learn that language from?" she asked.

"My Pop," Roger answered, "He talks like that to my mom. They moan and yell stuff like that in the middle of the night. Sometimes it's kinda desperate sounding, but other times they're really mad."

The hygienist blushed, wondering if the boy sitting in the chair knew exactly what was going on between his parents.

"They've been saying stuff like that less and less," Roger continued, "One time they only did it once in an entire year! Nine months later I got a baby sister, but she's in heaven now."

The hygienist didn't say a word to that and just began cleaning the boy's teeth, wondering when his next appointment was so she could take the day off.


Collins sat in his chair quietly, not squirming a bit. This was his first dental checkup since his parents died in a car crash and his arrival at the orphanage. Tears formed in his eyes as he remembered his own dad. He'd been a dentist and Collins was sure that the orphanage dentist wouldn't hold up a light to his dad. That being the case, Collins had become close with the hygienists as the office. They'd gotten him a big cake for his last birthday, when he turned ten.

"Thomas," Miss Crawford said stoutly, signaling that he was next up.

Collins hopped out of his chair and walked cautiously into the room. Though it did have the requirements of a dental office, the room was nothing like his father's. It was cold and lonely, while his dad's had been warm and welcoming. Collins vigorously wiped away tears and sat down.

"Ah, a new face," the dentist mused, "What's your name?"

"Thomas Maurice Collins Junior," he replied automatically as he'd been taught to do so at the orphanage, "But I like to be called Collins. It reminds me of my parents."

The dentist nodded. "Collins did you say?" he asked, "Was your dad a dentist?"

Collins nodded. "Yes," he answered, "His name was also Thomas."

"I think I knew your father Collins," the dentist said, "He was a great man. I'm sorry he's gone."

"Thank you," Collins whispered, giving the dentist a hug. Maybe this dentist wasn't too bad after all.


Mimi sat alone on the playground, trying to hold back tears. She wasn't crying because of cruelty from her peers. Quite the contrary, Mimi was one of the most popular girls in school. No, Mimi was crying because of the searing pain in her teeth.

Mimi let out a whimper as another spasm of pain shot through her jaw. She gently massaged the area, but it didn't do any good. A few tears fell down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away.

"Mimi?" someone asked, "Are you alright?"

Mimi looked up into the kind face of her teacher, Señora Sonrisa. "Sí Señora," Mimi answered, "I'm fine."

Señora Sonrisa gave Mimi a look that said 'tell me the truth chica'. "Are you sure Mimi?"

Mimi looked down at the ground shamefully. "No Señora," she said softly, "I lied. I'm not okay. My tooth hurts muy mucho!"

"Then you should go the dentist," Señora Sonrisa said.

Mimi looked at her teacher curiously. "Dentist?" she asked, "I've never been to the dentist before."

"Well, the dentist can fix your toothache," Señora Sonrisa said before walking away.

Dentist, Mimi thought to herself, I'll have to tell Mamá about that.


Maureen sat in the waiting room, tapping her foot impatiently. She hated going to the dentist. It was so boring! After putting up quite a fight with her mom, Maureen was stuck. And not only that, she had to miss rehearsals for the elementary school production of 'The Wizard of Oz'. Even though she was only in second grade Maureen had won the part of Dorothy.

Suddenly, Maureen had a great idea. Now was the perfect time to practice her lines! Maureen stood up in the plastic chair and began to recite.

"Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be. It's not a place you can get to by a boat or a train. It's far, far away – behind the moon – beyond the rain –"

By then Maureen had the eyes of every person in the office. The secretaries were staring, kids her age were giggling, and her mom was trying to pretend she wasn't this weird girl's mother.

And then Maureen began to sing, her voice filling every inch of space. "Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high, there's a land I once heard of in a lullaby. Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."

The waiting room erupted in applause. "Thank you! Thank yo-" Maureen yelled, blowing kisses before noticing the little girl that just walked in with a toy dog. Mustering up her best, crackly, Wicked Witch of the West voice, Maureen said, "I'll get you my pretty! And your little dog too!"

The little girl burst out crying and Maureen laughed her best evil laugh yet. Maybe going to the dentist wasn't so bad after all.


Joanne sat in the dentist chair, her mouth wide open, rolling her eyes. The hygienist wasn't doing it right! The brushing of teeth required a smooth, circular motion, not this jagged, crisscross thing. However, Joanne didn't say a word. She hated when people thought she was stuck up. Anyway, the last time she'd spoken out (against the teacher's poor grammar) she'd gotten a timeout.

A timeout. Joanne cringed. Joanne Jefferson never got timeouts! Her parents had been outraged at the teacher and encouraged her, but Joanne never spoke out again after that.

"Time for fluoride." The hygienist said happily, pulling out two mouth trays and a bottle full of the foamy fluoride.

Joanne shook her head softly. The trays were made of Styrofoam, which was bad for the environment.

"Do you have the liquid fluoride?" Joanne asked timidly.

"Yes," the hygienist answered, "Why?"

"Because Styrofoam is bad for the environment," Joanne answered, "I'd rather use something that won't take one hundred years to disintegrate."

The hygienist looked oddly at the young girl in front of her. "Sure," she mumbled, putting away the trays and pulling out the liquid fluoride.

That day, at the dinner table, Joanne announced she wanted to be a lawyer.


Angel lived with his grandma. It was from her that he got the nickname.

"You're my little Angel," Granny said one day and the name stuck.

Angel loved his grandma, who approved and supported his decision of being gay.

Whenever it was time for a dental checkup, Granny would take Angel into the basement, where an entire dental office was set up. Back in the day, Gramps had been a dentist. Before dying he'd taught his wife how to use the machinery. He'd even taken the old instruments from his office and put them in the basement.

"Why pay for what you've got free?" he'd always ask, a question Angel could never answer.

"Angel," Granny said in her sing-song voice, 'It's time for a checkup!"

Angel smiled and scurried down into the basement, sitting comfortable in the chair.

"I'm ready Granny," he said.

Granny grinned. "I never said anything about it being your turn for a checkup Angel. You've seen me do it plenty of times on the neighbors, so now it's your turn."

Angel nervously picked up the first instrument, a wave of determination and confidence sweeping over him.

"Okay Granny, let's start."

"Why Angel," Granny declared a while later, "This is the best my teeth have looked in years! Thank you!"

Angel beamed.


Benny didn't like going to the dentist, it scared him. There were pointy tools and sterile gloves and weird chairs. No, Benny didn't like going to the dentist one bit. But then one night he thought of a good idea.

"C'mon Benny," the dentist bribed, "Open up. I'm not going to hurt you."

Benny shook his head 'no'. He was not going to open his mouth for anything.

"Please?" the dentist asked, "I'll give you a sticker."

Benny shook his head 'no' again. He was ten, not two.

The dentist pinched Benny's side.

"Ow!" Benny cried and the dentist stuck his hand into his patients mouth.

"Gotcha!"

Benny was mad. That wasn't supposed to happen! Without thinking Benny bit down hard on the dentist's hand, his mouth filling with blood.

"Ow!" the dentist squealed, running to get a band-aid for his finger.

The Coffin's weren't allowing in that dentist's office ever again. His parents were outraged. Benny was relieved.