Fade In

Int. Dentist’s Office – Day

Sgt. Slaughter, dressed in surgical whites with army insignias on them, is standing next to his dentist’s chair. In the chair is a male patient, about thirty.

Slaughter

Hi, folks, Sgt. Slaughter here. In case you

haven’t heard, Sgt. Slaughter is giving up the

rough and tumble world of professional wrestling.

I found a much more lucrative career – dentistry.

No more will I be inflictin’ pain by breaking

bones, or gauging eyes. Now, I’ll be inflicting

pain by drilling gums and yanking teeth. Heh-heh.

Sgt. Slaughter’s the kind of dentist a real man

can go to. Hey, ninety percent of the people

who go to dentists don’t want to go because they

fear pain. The other ten percent go because they

love it. That’s the ten percent I want. Hey,

I specialize in drilling. You know why? Because

I used to be a drill sergeant. Heck, I drilled

on one patient so long, I had to call OPEC. And, if you’re one of them pansies that needs

Novocain, no sweat. I just put the needle on the

end of my bayonet and CHARGE!!!

And don’t talk to

me about root canal. To me, a root canal is some

street in Venice. In most cases I don’t even

administer Novocain. I got headphones so you can

listen to music instead. It plays songs like:

“Haven’t Got Time For The Pain”, “I’m So Hurt”

and “King Of Pain.” Heh. That’s me. King of

pain. Sgt Slaughter, D.D.S. So, the next time

you’re in need of dental care, call Sgt. Slaughter

at 555-P-A-I-N. That’s 555-PAIN.

He looks at his patient.

Slaughter

Okay, open your mouth.

The patient obeys.

Slaughter

I don’t like this tooth.

Sgt. Slaughter grabs a pair of pliers, reaches in the patients mouth and the sound of a loud pop can be heard. He pulls back to show a tooth in the head of the pliers.

Slaughter

Next!

Announcer (V.O.)

Sgt. Slaughter, D.D.S. In the white

pages under “excruciating.”

Fade Out.