The Father of Teeth

Text for today: II Canines clxiv-clxxiii

Nevertheless, a woman approached the Father of Teeth and laid before him a child with a swollen abdomen and a powerful set of lungs. "What am I to do with this?" inquired the Father of Teeth during an interval in the yelling.
"Cure it, of course," said the woman. "We can't afford medical fees, and the Creator who made all things has declined to intervene even after repeated petitions."

The Father of Teeth tried laying-on of hands, but when he took his hands away the volume of noise increased appreciably. "Appendicitis," he told the woman.
"That sounds medical," she said. "I told you we can't afford it."
"Oh, very well," said the Father of Teeth, and chewed his way in; whereupon the woman began to scream, although the noise from the child abated considerably. Truly, to all things there is a balance. Soon the Father of Teeth felt a tingle in his premolar gingivitis; and sure enough, within moments the Vermiform Appendix appeared, swollen up and purple like a party balloon.

"What the devil do you think you're doing?" it said.
"You've got to go," answered the Father of Teeth, a little indistinctly.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," said the Vermiform Appendix. "It's bad for the digestion."
"I mean it," said the Father of Teeth; "you're an evolutionary leftover, a dangerous vestige of the good old days when benignant and charitable apes roamed the world without benefit of meat or monosodium glutamate. Everything was fine as long as you just dangled and did nothing, but now you've made yourself a liability."
"On the contrary," said the Vermiform Appendix, "I was placed here by the Creator who made all things, and I act only according to his will. The customer is always right."

The woman was still screaming, despite the Father of Teeth raising his head from the operation and baring all his most reassuring gums at her. "My diagnosis was correct," he said; "now all that is required is a brief negotiation with a primitive physical attribute, and then all will be well, or quieter anyway."
"I protest," protested the Vermiform Appendix. "Having been placed here by the Creator, I am no more primitive than the most refined neural connections in the cerebrum or the latest microplastic mutations in the mitochondrial machinery. I have been in my place just as long as they have been in theirs, and I am here for the same reason all of us are here: because the Creator ordered it so."

By this time the Father of Teeth had finished his sawing and gnawing, and with a hideous twang the Vermiform Appendix was removed from its accustomed place. Compassionately the Father of Teeth pinched it hard at the neck, to keep it from becoming deflated; then he tied a deft knot, which both preserved the venerable dimensions of the Vermiform Appendix and prevented it from talking above a squeak. Hence, with remarkable speed the woman and the Vermiform Appendix became quite friendly together; and it is to be presumed that the child's soul took leave of its corrupt and dismantled flesh and made its way to whatever reward the Creator had ordained, leaving the Father of Teeth to clean up the mess.