Twist

"My name is Dr. Gilbert Trujillo. I'm a dentist."

"Don't tell me you're the joker that's been sending me letters?"

"Well, I have been writing to you, but I haven't received any reply."

"Okay, here's my reply: my teeth are fine. Now leave me alone."

"Don't hang up, Mr. Vancourt," the voice pleaded. "I got your number from Robert Hanford, your uncle's attorney. I'm calling about an unpaid bill. Charles Vancourt came to see me about a six months before his unfortunate demise, and..."

"Look, I don't know you, and I don't know anything about any unpaid bills," Denny said. Mentally, he added: Except for my own.

"But Mr. Hanford made it clear that as Charles Vancourt's heir, you were ultimately responsible for his outstanding debts."

"Well, wasn't that nice of him," Denny sneered. He'd have to remember to properly thank Hanford the next time he saw him. Maybe with a roll of quarters in his fist.

"Frankly," Trujillo went on, "it never dawned on me that he would not be able to pay his bill, given the nature of the work I did for him."

"Yeah, well, life's just full of little surprises, isn't it?" Denny said, and tried to hang up, but the man at the other end kept talking. Denny was about to shout something back and slam down the phone when a statement from the man captured his full attention. "Wait, wait, wait, gimme that again," he shouted into the phone, "You made what for my uncle?"

Denny listened intently as the dentist repeated himself, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he dropped the phone and covered his face with his hands. Distantly, he could hear the dentist's voice calling: "Mr. Vancourt, are you still there?" But Denny's only response was a moan. He moaned even louder when he imagined his uncle grinning at him from six feet under.

With solid platinum dentures.