Tooth-Fay Tooth-Spit II

You will not frisk me! And don’t even think about strip searching me!’ Fists on hips, glaring up at the Customs Officer rummaging through her luggage. ‘If you do, you’ll be gumming steak and enjoying a floss-free lifestyle!’

‘Obviously, you lost more than just your wisdom-teeth and failed the smarts test to become a real cop – because that’s children’s teeth. Don’t open those sealed bags containing them filthy-fangs. Read where it says medical supplies on the authorization certificate. No, I’m not a doctor, you cavity-case, I’m a tooth fairy having a bad-wing-day. For the ump-teeth-time, you dental daymare, I’m attending the annual Black-Magic Witch convention where I sell these calcium-cupcakes.’

‘Hey, hands off! That’s fairy-dust in that bag. You snort that and you’ll be off with the gremlins and your drug dog will be making a fortune as a TV talkshow host…You realize, it’s a false-tooth-fable about flying on fairy dust. And, I will not pay full price for an airfare. Hello, tooth fairy with a broken wing that hurts worse than an infected filling. Besides, seat belts won’t fit and you have no idea how much those seats reek when you’re my size.’

‘No skin off my teeth where you place me. Just put me on a shelf by the air-hostesses so I can overhear the inflight scandal. You could let me loose in the cockpit to swap flying tactics with the pilots. Or, I could slip into the overhead luggage compartment and hang with the rats…Perhaps, I should call a witch and hitch a ride on a broom.’

‘Except, your planes have drink carts with spirit bottles perfect for my size. Its why I’m traveling human airlines, so I don’t break anymore wings by drinking and flying again.’

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