What's Worse Than The Dentist?

So, I was sitting in a dentist’s waiting room this morning feeling more than a little anxious about having a stranger poke around my gob with sharp pointy things. I could hear a young girl wailing as a tiny mirror on the end of a handle was forcefully pushed around her mouth and I winced at the thought of what was to come. “Will they find cavities? Will I have to have that whiney drill abrade enamel off my teeth?!” I asked myself desperately as I sweated cobs. Then something peculiar happened. I looked up at the flat screen playing music videos, and I saw this:

As my brow twisted in utter repulsion, my fear completely dissipated and felt like a distant, and almost fond, memory.

Congratulations, Nubz, you’re worse than a trip to the dentist.