The Chair of Doom By Stephen Curtis

There is sweat pouring down my face like a river And I’m shaking all over with utter terror Slowly, unwillingly, my feet drag me in the direction To the place where my horrible fate lays waiting Oh God! What have I done to deserve this? One on each side they flank me, there is no escape They lead me into the grey room, I cast my eyes about There it sat, in the middle, looking deathly ominous It was the chair of doom, waiting for me, almost alive They escorted me to it and I had to sit myself down The arms wrapped around as if to prevent escape Next to it, were the instruments that would be used Now that I was in the chair what was to happen was inevitable It was only a matter of counting down the remaining minutes Then I heard those dreaded words, those fateful words “Open your mouth, let’s see which tooth is giving you trouble”