I got a story to tell every word of it true, except for the parts I made up for you, just some history that has been reworded into a mystery called The Way I Heard it.

Yep, that's all true. This is another episode of The Way I Heard It, a short story written just for you on a plane to

somewhere or another by yours truly not so long ago. This one is called Something to Chew

On. This is not a Christmas story, I should tell you, but I do think it's well suited for the

month of December. I hope you like it. Here's something else to chew on, though,

before we get started. This is the way I heard it.

In the prison infirmary, Jack Mallory and George Foster considered the criminal reclining comfortably

in the dentist chair. They had seen his face before, obviously, everyone had. The bald head,

the neatly cropped mustache, and the wide eyes bulging from behind round, horned-rimmed glasses.

It was a face that had been on the front pages all month,

but though his face was familiar, the two young dentists were not prepared for the crime scene

that waited for them behind the lips of their newest patient. The criminal was down to a dozen

teeth, all of which were yellowed and rotten, protruding

at random angles from his diseased gums.

The stench from his decaying choppers wafted up, hitting the young dentists squarely

in the face.

"'Good God,' said Jack.

"'I can see why you scheduled an appointment.

"'What took you so long?' The man in the chair said nothing.

He just stared up at the dentists, waiting for them to get started.

"'You realize,' said George,

"'we'll need to pull your teeth.'

...