Little Ollie Leatherstrap loves his lollies. He loves red ones, blue ones, green ones, even anchovy ones. But Little Ollie Leatherstrap’s orthodontist said to him one day, “Little Ollie, when you get your braces on, there can be no more lollies sharing rent with your teeth. Lollies are sticky and will pull the brackets right off!”
After Ollie got his braces on, he was in immense pain. He wore scarves around his face so Wanda Wickendyke wouldn’t see his newly marred gob. He loved Wanda Wickendyke; every time she sauntered past, he’d murmur quietly, “Oh Wanda, I’d like to stick MY wick in your dyke.”
But that would never be a possibility, not now that his teeth were mangled and tangled with wire and metal.
The next night, Ollie lay awake in bed, running the tip of his tongue across his oral trap. He nicked his tongue on a jutting wire, and grimaced as a trail of warm blood trickled down his throat. And then he had an auditory flashback. “Lollies are sticky and will pull the brackets right off. Brackets right off. Brackets right off. Right off. Right off. Right offffffff. Lollies are sticky.”
Shooting out of bed, Ollie collected all the lollies he could find, unwrapping them like an orphan tearing into a loaf of stale bread on Christmas. He gnawed on each one, crunched, ravaged, until one by one the brackets began popping off with a sickening scrape.
The next day, he confidently strode up to Wanda Wickendyke, flashed his maw full of unobstructed enamel, and asked her out on a date. He wouldn’t find out until after he paid for their $100 dinner that Wanda is a Born Again who’s saving her dyke to be wicked for marriage.