Is this connected to your Tunnock's addiction habit?
Genevieve Gerbil, ever the meticulous maven of molars, adjusts her tiny spectacles and clears her throat. Boiled Beetle lounges nearby in faded lilac Crocs, nibbling the marshmallow dome of a half-squashed Tunnock’s teacake.
“Boiled,” Genevieve begins, twitching her whiskers with earnest concern, “I’ve observed with some alarm your confectionery consumption habits.”
Boiled belches gently. “They calm me,” she mumbles, retrieving a caramel wafer from under a cushion.
“Indeed,” says Genevieve, unfazed. “But did you know the refined sugars in those delectable Scottish snacks can wreak havoc on your enamel? Once the bacteria in your mouth metabolise those sugars, they produce acid. And acid, Boiled, dissolves teeth.”
Boiled looks down at her crocs, as if seeking moral support from the spongey footwear.
“I’d be happy to share my twelve-point dental protocol,” Genevieve offers, pulling a laminated leaflet from her handbag. “It includes brushing twice daily with a fluoride-rich paste, interdental cleaning, and my patented fennel-floss routine. Also, chew parsley.”
“Parsley?” Boiled repeats, confused.
“For breath,” Genevieve nods. “And moral superiority.”
Boiled crunches the caramel wafer thoughtfully. “Would it help if I only ate teacakes on weekends?”
“That would be a start,” says Genevieve kindly, patting her on the shell. “And perhaps invest in some arch support.”
Boiled eyes her Crocs suspiciously. A reckoning is near.