When was the last time you thought about teeth? It’s not a common thing to think about in the grand scheme of things. Sure, there’s the dentist visits, and when you brush them to keep that dreaded gingivitis away. But when have you thought about the bones that make up a smile?

Lined up in a row, all nice and neat they sit. From birth where you have none, they emerge and smile with you, shedding only when you grow into an adult. Incisors, cainines, molars, they work in conjunction despite their differences. Tools to be used to reach an end goal of the mouth that runs them all.

But no matter how pearly white the teeth are, it’s the mouth that brings it all together. The most rotten of teeth can hide the kindness of a voice. The vile and sinister can grin from behind the cleanest and most bleached of teeth possible. For even when everyone works together, it’s always behind a conductor.

And it’s the conductor’s choice to have them shine, or knocked out bloody on the ground.

With Sunshine, it’s always about the smile. Bright and beaming, sinister and kind at the twitch of his lips. Of course he’s got an entire crew of grins and devilish people behind animal masks. A snake like him sneaks in when you aren’t looking, twisting words and moving people around. A conductor for a train of grinning teeth.

What a smile he’s chosen, full of angles and pain. From the snarls of Mr. Smile himself, a contradiction in his steps to Mr. Chipper who’s lack of emotion makes him ironic for a set of incisors. The sharpness of the canines that make up Miss Joy’s stare to the chewing excitement of Mr. Glee’s molars, it’s an assembly of a strange and bizarre set of teeth.

But the tongue beneath it all, the voice itself leads this merry parade around like it means something. That the words it spews will change the outcome of what’s headed his way, like a damn show to put on for the kids.

No words can come from the lips of that mouth though to influence my choices anymore. I’ve tried to trust, given the benefit of the doubt where it belongs, but my patience has run out. I’ve done my duty, my kindness to the world, and time and time again it’s spat me back out.

That time’s done.

The gloves are coming off.

This smile’s going to get it’s ass rocked.

I won’t listen to those barbed words that flow as smooth as silver. I’ll brute force my way past each tooth, leave them bloodied on the ground and barely recognizable as to what they once were. And then in the blood of those broken gums, I’ll get a hold of that snake like tongue. There’s no words anymore that I’ll listen to.

Just that sound of tearing flesh, and the beat-down that should’ve been given to you at the start of this shit.