(James and the Giant Fang) - (Giant), with an important distinction: My name is not James

I've never been one for symmetry. My hair grows faster on the left side than the right. My left arm has proven to be completely useless for dribbling, writing and basically anything with the --ing suffix. Almost every word you see typed has been dominated by my right hand (though the left is happy to add in an occasional "a" or "w". Get the picture?

It should come as no surprise, then, to learn that my canine teeth have always been more of fraternal twins than identical. Speaking frankly, my left fang looks like a grinding style tooth like a cow might have. My right one...well, it looks like it could be Dracula's. And that was always cool. People liked that about me. I was distinct.

But recently, things changed. Any time I demonstrated any sort of wrecklessness in my chewing motion -- a big chomp, a hasty bite -- my Dracula fang would sink in to my lip. Blood, bumps, that feeling you get when you bang your elbow against a wall (only a lip version)...all = no bueno.

So when Dr. Shimshack asked if he could sand Dracula down to size, I said yes. Now it's gone. Gone I say!

RIP, my fine fanged friend. I will now spend my entire day tonguing the smooth tooth sitting in your place