Like an Atomic Rodent
Michel was handcuffed to a chair in a plain-looking waiting room. How he hated waiting rooms, especially those at the dentists. Boring magazines, that strange dental smell, babies screaming, old grannies sucking on throat sweets, and butterflies in the stomach - because at any moment the dentist was going to use those scraping, flossing machines that made him wince. The waiting in waiting rooms, any waiting room, was even worse. It didn’t matter what you were waiting for, it was always a horrible place to be. Chances were good that you were either going to experience something nasty, like a drilling from the dentist, or going to receive some bad news, like being told your tabby cat will need to be buried along with the car’s tyre because they’re unable to peel him of
