ADULTEROUS HYGIENIST (a play in one page)
BY PAUL HAGEN
(A fairly placid dentist’s waiting room. Patients thumb through magazines or fiddle with their phones. A receptionist chews gum as she minds the desk. Into the room, with the force of a supernova, charges the DENTIST’S WIFE. She is not at all okay about life at the moment.)
Where is he? You must tell me. You’re all in on it, you bitches!
Does he not know he can’t scratch his every itch because it itches?
And you fools sitting here? He puts his hands inside your mouth!
Mere moments after they’ve been in some slut pig from the South!
She may be the “hygienist” but her title is a joke.
‘Cause she’s about as clean as an exhaust pipe spewing smoke.
And how clean could HIS mouth be after her crotch, he devours?
Can you imagine what they must do in here after hours?
No, I may not be perfect. I have never claimed I was.
I drink a little too much coffee. WHAT? I like the buzz.
I clean, perhaps obsessively, each inch of every room.
And maybe every few months, I wear out one more vacuum.
But know what I have never done? Defiled my marriage vow.
Especially not by giving my co-worker a good plow.
So now you all must know that man: the man who holds the drill?
Has more than one variety of cavity to fill!
Where is she? I’ll destroy her. Rip her implants out and beat her
‘Bout the head and neck with them until I finally defeat her!
And where is he? I’m really in the mood to cause some pain.
I wonder how his cock would like a shot of novacaine?!
And where’s the laughing gas? ‘Cause I could use a little boost.
And let me tear apart the very chair where he seduced
her. Where he let his hand slide down from her neck to her back…
I wonder if he fell for her while ridding her of plaque?
I wonder: Could she tell me? That profane hygienist whore?
If it is she or gingivitis who makes more folks sore?
So let me at ‘em! Bring the sharpest instruments you’ve got!
I’m ready to extract you both like teeth shot through with rot!
Yes, any minute you will END! Crushed like a dixie cup!
‘Cause THIS is my appointment!
(The DENTIST’S WIFE opens the door to the exam rooms and rushes in. Patients escape, as the horrified receptionist hears the screams of a woman, then a man. Eventually, the DENTIST’S WIFE emerges, exhibiting signs of having been in a struggle, holding dental equipment dripping blood. She heads toward the door, but turns back to the receptionist.)
There will be no follow up.
(The receptionist weeps silently as the DENTIST’S WIFE exits. End of play.)