Matt's dentist seemed to be just that - a dentist. Things aren't always as they seem.
Matt sat in his Spanish class, yawning as he repeated the conjugation of "hacer" for the millionth time. "This class is so... slow," he thought.
You see, Matt was a sixteen-year-old boy of above average intelligence. His grades were perfect, he never had a problem with behavior, and he and his friends discussed paradoxes and Shakespearean literature at lunch.
Suddenly, the phone rang, and his teacher hurried over to answer it. After a few seconds of nodding, she looked up and announced, "Matt to check out!" Matt cheered on the inside, gathered his ridiculously easy workbook pages for that night, and practically ran out of the classroom.
Matt's joy at being checked out of Spanish was put on hold for a moment as he wondered why he was being checked out in the first place. He also had something of a problem with paranoia, so he hoped there had not been an accident.
Now that he was thoroughly anxious, he quickened his pace and burst into the office. His mother was there, which relieved him, but only for a second.
"Why are you checking me out?"
"You have an appointment at the dentist's office."
"Oh. Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"
"Well, it was a bit strange. The office called me and said they had an opening. They can work you in a little early this time."