Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: bank robber, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Ghost Town, Norther Winslow, treasure
The sky had completely darkened when they reached the town Norther had set his sights on. Dimly flickering neon lights were all that kept them from swerving into one of the flimsy wooden buildings. “This is a ghost town,” Dr. Frank murmured, hugging himself tighter.
“Right. And we’re going to rob that bank there,” Norther slowed down as he drove by the bank, the tallest building in the small settlement. The town itself was only one street, just in a Spaghetti Western.
“Can I be frank with you, Mr. Winslow?”
“You are,” Norther grinned at the wordplay.
“That bank looks like nothing.”
“You underestimate, Frank. In that bank – ” Norther looked around suspiciously, ” – I’ll tell you once we get in a secured area.” He continued driving to the end of the street. Beyond that there was only the sparse camel-colored sand for miles, dotted with the occasional tumbleweed.
The very last building on the right looked like it was about to collapse on its side and die. To Dr. Frank’s horror, this was the one Norther pulled up to. He parked the car behind the building and they walked to the front, where a faded sign hung above their heads. Hotel, it read, and nothing more.
“Wha-how’d you find this place?” Dr. Frank asked incredulously, staring.
“Google,” Norther replied casually and continued up the steps. Dr. Frank looked back down the street. This seemed to be the only open establishment, and it didn’t look sanitary. In the end he had no choice but to follow Norther into the hotel.
“Hi, yes. I’d like a room please.” Norther leaned over the counter.
“Two rooms,” Dr. Frank hissed. Norther ignored him.
“Name?”
“Mr. uh, John Smith.” Norther turned and winked conspiratorially at Dr. Frank. His pseudonym was fool-proof. They would never be able to sort through the millions of John Smith’s in the United States.
Moments later they were opening the door to their room, Dr. Frank berating Norther for requesting a single room.
“It’s cheaper to share,” Norther said as he laid down his belongings on the bed. He sat down and patted the area beside him. “Sit down.”
“I’d rather stand, thank you,” Dr. Frank retorted, folding his arms.
“Suit yourself,” and Norther lay back on the bed, relaxed. “That bank is no ordinary bank. Its vaults hold one of the greatest lost treasures of the world.”
Dr. Frank couldn’t take it anymore. Here he was miles from home in a seedy hotel with a crazy treasure-hunting bank robber. He turned and left the room.
“Your funeral,” Norther muttered, picking up the television remote.
Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: Alice in Wonderland, bank robbery, Big Fish, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Johnny Depp, Mad Hatter, Norther Winslow
Norther lay his head back as he drove, laughing maniacally. Dr. Frank anxiously reached for the wheel, but his hand was slapped away. “I drive,” Norther warned possessively. The wind whipped their hair back, exposing their almost identical wrinkled foreheads as the red sports car raced East toward Texas. “We need to find us a place to sleep,” Norther said, looking around them for a rest stop. But the flatness of the desert stretched out uninterrupted for miles.
The sky slowly darkened above them until it was a deep champagne red. Accepting his fate, Dr. Frank let his guard down and rested his head back. The car swerved dangerously and he sat up, alarmed. Norther’s chin rested on his chest, and a loud snore erupted into the air. Dr. Frank slammed his hand down onto the steering wheel and maneuvred the car to the side of the road.
He was afraid to sleep, but could not resist the downward pull on his eyelids. Soon the two men were sleeping like babes, their snores scaring away the wildlife. It was enough to protect them through the night. Their jackets, however, were not enough to protect them from the desert’s harsh nights, and they eventually slept closer and closer until they were holding each other to keep warm.
The next morning, Norther awoke screaming. “What is this?”
Dr. Frank snorted awake, “What?”
“We’re in a ditch! More than that, what the hell were you doing hugging me in your sleep?”
Dr. Frank chose not to answer that, because he didn’t know. “We should probably push the car back onto the highway.”
“Damn right we should.” Norther scrambled out of the car and leaned on the back-end of it. Dr. Frank followed, albeit at his own much slower pace. “Hurry up! Is this how you’re going to be at the robbery, because if yes you’re gonna get us killed.”
Dr. Frank didn’t know what had gotten into Mr. Winslow making him so snappy, but he hurried nonetheless. The two men pushed against the car with all their might until it moved slowly upwards and onto the main road. Sweating, they rushed back into their seats and drove off.
“That was a good workout,” Norther said.
“Keep your eye on the road please,” Dr. Frank reminded him nervously.
“Don’t worry about it, Doc. I’m a bank robber. I can take anything.” Dr. Frank stayed quiet, although his mind was still racing with worries.
“How many times have you robbed a bank?”
“Once, last year. I told you, it’s how I got this shiny car.”
They drove on for several days, with nothing uneventful happening because Norther miraculously managed to find a rest stop each night, successfully eliminating awkward nights spent huddling in the sports car. It was as if that traumatic experience had made him determined never to spend the night in his car with Dr. Frank again.
At the end of three day’s drive, they reached Texas. Norther’s land of opportunity. It would be another three days until they reached their target.
Side note: I can’t think of the Mad Hatter as Johnny Depp. Is this the second Jack Sparrow?
Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: bank robbery, Big Fish, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Norther Winslow
“Is something wrong?” Dr. Frank’s wife asked him when he exited the bathroom. Caught defenseless, Dr. Frank hastily zipped up his fly and widened his eyes.
“What? Well that came out of nowhere. No. There’s nothing wrong. Why, is there something I don’t know about? He looked everywhere but at her. Dr. Frank’s wife folded her arms, then unfolded them again to take off her reading glasses. Her book started to close, and she rushed to save her page. It ruined the effect she was going for, to say the least.
“What did the white man have to say to you today?” she asked him, getting to the root of the problem. Ever since Mr. Winslow had visited their office earlier that day, Dr. Frank had been alternating between brooding and jumpy.
“He said that he needed a root canal done.”
“Well why did he go into your office, Dr. Frank?”
“He was ashamed that he needed the root canal. It is a shameful thing in white people’s culture.”
His wife looked at him. “Dr. Frank, we’ve both been living in the United States for over fifteen years. You and I both know that white people are not ashamed of root canals.” They both paused to remember Mr. Henderson, who had come in yelling that he had a root canal. He had enjoyed the consequent spectacle.
“It varies with each white person. Come on, Wife. You can’t generalize like that. Let’s go to sleep, hmm?” And with that Dr. Frank turned off the lights and slid into bed next to her. Dr. Frank’s wife sighed, then closed her book and placed it on the nightstand.
The next morning Dr. Frank awoke and found his wife to have left for the office earlier than usual. Sighing, he finished his morning routine and began the walk to the office.
He was just passing the hip new Asian restaurant next to the firehouse when he was tackled to the ground by a big blur. In the bushes, they wrestled. Finally the blur tired and gave up. Dr. Frank sat up. “Mr. Winslow?”
“Call me Norther. Are you ready to go?”
Dr. Frank, bewildered, shook his head. “No, of course not. You told me yesterday.”
“That’s plenty of time.” He looked down at Dr. Frank’s shiny black bag. “Ah, you’ve packed.”
“No, these are some dental -” but again he was yanked to Norther Winslow’s shiny red sports car. A sign of his mid-life crisis, to be sure, but also of his newfound wealth after robbing his first bank nearly a year before. The wealth was surely deteriorating as well, for the car had a few unrepaired scratches, and when Norther tried to start it, it rumbled furiously in response.
“Let’s go.” He smiled creepily at Dr. Frank, and the car raced off in a whirlwind of dust. Coughing and choking, Dr. Frank had no choice but to comply. Thus Dr. Frank, dressed in a forest green polo shirt, brown belt, and khakis, drove off with Norther Winslow into the sunset. His wife could only make the conclusion that he had turned gay and run off with his Caucasian lover. She cried for five minutes, and moved on. What strength and resilience did this woman portray.
Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: bank robbery, Big Fish, crossover, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Johnny Depp, Steve Buscemi
Umm, okay. After weeks of neglect, I decided to check my stats, because that’s always fun. And what did I see in the search terms but “dentist fanfiction”? Since I have nothing better to do than walking around in a Hugh Hefner-ish bathrobe that belonged to my mother, I’ll indulge this strange fantasy.
I know I’m crazy for wearing a bathrobe in this heat. But, how do I say this delicately? My uterus is expelling blood.
Wow I’ve never been so outright about it before. Must be a hormonal thing, and I’ll come to regret it in six days.
Okay, the dentist fanfiction. Naturally I must make the protagonist my beloved dentist, whose belly grumbles as he rewires my braces. It is important to note that Dr. Frank looks like everyone, most notably Steve Buscemi and that one picture of Johnny Depp in Rolling Stone magazine. I know, how does he do it?
Onward.
Dr. Frank picked up his sleek dental bag. It was shiny and black, and only added to his hipness that summer morning as he walked to his office. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, beads of water falling to the cement in a graceful formation. How Dr. Frank was able to be this cool, no one knew. And he’d be damned before he shared his secrets. Dr. Frank stopped himself mentally. He never used those sort of words; Dr. Frank was a mild man. He lived in a a beige suburban house with his wife, who helped out at the dental office as his receptionist.
After stopping to admire the new red paint on the neighboring dairy store, Dr. Frank continued until he reached his office. The bell jingled as he pushed the door open, and his wife looked up from the counter. “Dr. Frank,” she greeted him. “Mr. Tse’s your first appointment. He’ll be coming in in a few minutes.”
Not even a good morning, Dr. Frank thought sadly. He nodded and walked deeper into the office. His assistant, Clara, stood at the counter, labeling plaster models of teeth. Hearing his footsteps, she glanced up. “Good morning Dr. Frank,” she smiled. Even if she was just getting on his good side for that recommendation letter she needed, Dr. Frank appreciated the gesture.
“Good morning Clara,” he returned. “How are the models coming along?”
“They’re great,” she said, turning one around in her hand. “This one’s got a bit of crookedness with the wisdom teeth, but there’s nothing we can’t pull out.”
Dr. Frank opened his mouth to reply when he heard the bell jingle in the lobby. “Excuse me Clara,” he said, rushing over to the doorway. “Mr. Tse?” he said, but it was not Mr. Tse.
“Uh no, I’m Norther Winslow,” the man smiled, his teeth making Dr. Frank’s fingers itch. How he wanted to straighten them all right now. And to scrape the evident plaque off of them.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Winslow. I’m Dr. Frank.” He stuck out his hand, and they shook.
“I’m Norther Winslow,” the man repeated.
“Yes.”
“Uh, may we speak in your office? Privately?”
Dr. Frank stared, taken aback. No one ever entered his office, except his wife to drop off files and dust the bookshelves. “Uh, sure. Yes, right this way.” Norther trailed behind him as they entered his office. Dr. Frank quickly flipped on the light switch and welcomed Mr. Winslow to sit in one of the plush chairs facing his desk.
He himself sat down in his own swiveling desk chair. Norther leaned in conspiratorially. “Dr. Frank, I am a wanted man.”
“What?” Dr. Frank, once again was taken aback. Here was a man who had managed to shock him twice within five minutes of acquaintance, a challenging feat in itself.
“I robbed a bank in Texas,” Norther continued to whisper, glancing occasionally at Dr. Frank’s wife, whose eyes darted toward the office every three seconds. She had no idea what business her mild-mannered, if not cool husband had with such a wild-eyed white man, but it didn’t look legal.
“Why are you coming to me? I’ve never seen you in my life!” Dr. Frank whispered furiously back at Norther. He didn’t want any trouble, he just wanted to run his dental clinic and live his quiet life. He had won awards, and deservedly so. Neighborhood housewives regularly invited him and his wife over all the time. In fact, they got by without cooking for themselves, so beloved were his services to the community in filling cavities and curing root canals.
“I need a decoy, Dr. Frank. I need a distraction.”
“You’re going to pull another one?”
“Very smart Dr. Frank. I heard you were a quick one. So,” Norther looked deep into his eyes. “Are you in or are you out?”
Dr. Frank’s moral compass spun around wildly. It was obvious the answer was no, so what was he hesitating for? He weighted the options. Dr. Frank the bank robber or Dr. Frank the dentist? It was obvious which he belonged to.
It was a great surprise to him then, when the word that slipped out of his mouth began with a Y and not a N.
Looks like this one’s going to be a serial. Unless I lose motivation, or am booed off the stage.
