Title:
Stopping Bad Breath Bart
Summary
There might be several ways to stop bad breath. Some of them might even be funny. But don't take my word for it, read on...
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"Pee-ew! You smell like a skunk soaking in sardine nectar for a week."
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OK, so I can be a little candid every now and then. It's not something I would say to Attila the Hun during a pre-battle pep rally. But it was not Attila the Hun standing in front of me. It was just my buddy Bart.
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"Pee-ew! You have bad breath."
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So when the phone rang that night, the last person I expected to greet me in a cheery voice was Bad Breath Bart. "Hey, Happy Guy. I'm feeling great," he said. "Want to guess why?"
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"You just won the gold medal for the ten-meter turkey toss?"
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"Nope," he replied. "But thanks for the tip. I'll start training for it tomorrow."
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"OK, I give up. Why do you feel so great?"
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"Because I discovered an easy way to stop bad breath," he declared. "Want to guess how?"
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"You bought a book on stopping bad breath and you are following the instructions?"
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"Sa-ay, that's a good idea," Bad Breath Bart said. "But that's not it. My plan is even simpler. I covered up my bad breath."
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"Bart, that won't work. Since Julius Caesar first invaded Paris and declared 'Veni Vidi Vino', people have been trying to cover up their breath. But mint just is not strong enough."
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Editor's note: I've already had my say on the great mint conspiracy in a previous column on toothpaste and jelly beans.
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"Bingo!" he shouted. "Mint is too weak, so I found something stronger. Want to guess what?"
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"You've been rinsing with five-week-old milk?"
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"Nope."
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"You've discovered that cologne is best taken internally?"
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"Nope."
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"You downed a bottle of vanilla extract, mistaking it for beer?"
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"Nope."
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This guessing game was giving me headaches and foot cramps. "I give up, Bart. What's your secret to stopping bad breath?"
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"Garlic," he declared.
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"Garlic?"
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"Garlic. Now nobody can smell my bad breath, because all they smell is garlic," he beamed.
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"Garlic?"
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"Of course, there are some side effects," Bad Breath Bart noted. "For instance, my pet vampire has run away. And this afternoon I blew a kiss to my wife, and she slammed the door on my face."
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"Can I offer an alternative, Bart? Something that won't put your nose in a cast every time you get the irresistible urge to blow at your wife?"
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"Sure."
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"Try using some mouthwash with cetylpyridinium chloride in it. That always works for me."
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"Wow. That's a mouthful," Bad Breath Bart exclaimed.
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I was glad to have finally given Bad Breath Bart a mouthful that would actually help him cure his problem. I did not anticipate the call I would receive the very next evening.
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"Hey, Happy Guy. Thanks for the tip," Bad Breath Bart said. "That cetlip... cettap... centapyr... That unpronounceable mouthwash ingredient is superb."
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"Excellent!" I was thrilled that he had taken my advice and that it was working so well.
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"Yeah. It really tastes great," he continued.
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"Tastes great?"
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"You bet. And so filling, too."
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Suddenly I felt an ominous sensation closing in. "What do you mean by 'filling'?"
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"After taking that cetilp... cettep... certip... that unpronounceable concoction, I don't feel hungry anymore," he explained.
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"Bart, what did you put in that concoction?"
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"Oh, the usual ten scoops of ice cream, a cup or two of milk, a bag of chocolate chips, half a banana, some corn flakes, a wombat's ear and the juice out of the maraschino cherry jar," he responded.
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"But that won't stop your bad breath."
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"Oops. I also added that cetip... cetpe... certilp... that unpronounceable ingredient," he added. "It sure tasted good."
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Just then, my wife entered the room. "Honey, I just made you one of your favorite banana-strawberry milkshakes," she said with a smile.
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I looked at the glass she placed in my hand. I looked at it from the top. I looked at it from the bottom. I looked all around it.
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"What are you looking for," she asked.
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I knew she would not believe me. "Chocolate chips and corn flakes."