Womblecheep and the bad tooth

It's a day, like any other day. But today, the Womblecheep has a toothache.



The Bad Tooth


Jason Moody


There was a crash, a bang and a wallop. This was closely followed by clanging, moaning and quite a bit of shouting.

 The Womblecheep rattled through his cupboards making a terrible racket. The pots and pans clattered and clanked as he desperately looked for his favourite frying pan.

 He loved to cook all sorts of delicious things in his frying pan. By far his favourite was chocolate covered fish. But today, he wasn’t going to be cooking, oh no.

 Bang went the saucepan as it collided with his cheek with great force. He waited a few seconds and then tried again, the frying pan smacking him square on the cheek..

 He waited again for a few seconds and then let out a groan, followed by a moan and then a cry. He really wasn’t having a very good day.

 He slumped into a chair and let out a long sigh. His expression resembling a child who can’t have any sweeties. He held his large hand to his cheek and pulled a very sad face. He was just about to hit himself with the frying pan again, when there was a knock at the door.

 He shuffled over to the door and opened it. It was Matty. The Womblecheep mumbled under his breath and turned back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Matty followed and climbed on to a chair and sat opposite him. Matty could only just see over the top of the Womblcheep’s table, it was huge.

 He looked at his giant friend. “What’s up Wombly?”

 The Womblecheep groaned and pointed to his cheek.

 “You’ve got cheek ache?” asked Matty.

 The Womblcheep shook his head. He opened up his large mouth to reveal his teeth. They were all colours. Some were yellow, a few were brown, he even had a gold tooth which Matty thought was very cool.

 You’ve got toothache?” he asked.

 The Womblecheep nodded.

 "Why don’t you go to Mr Molar the Dentist? He can help you,” said Matty.

The Womblecheep shook his head vigorously, a look of panic in his eyes.

 “You’re not afraid of the dentist are you?” asked Matty.

 The Womblecheep wrinkled his nose and did the best ‘I’m not afraid of anything’ face. Matty wasn’t convinced.

 “Let me have a look,” he asked.

 Matty climbed on top of the table and knelt down in front of the Womblecheep. The Womblecheep was quite suprised by this.

 “OK, open up then,” he asked.

 The Womblecheep opened his large mouth, showing off his multi coloured teeth. Matty rolled back his sleeve and put his hand inside the Womblecheep’s mouth. He grabbed a hold of a brown tooth.

 “Is it this one?” he asked.

 The Womblecheep shook his head. He was very nervous. He loved Matty, but he was not the cleverest of boys. Matty rubbed his finger over a yellow tooth, the Womblecheep's breath was foul.

 “This One?” he asked, trying to hold his nose at the same time.

 The Womblecheep again shook his head.

 Then Matty noticed a tooth at the back of the Womblecheep’s mouth. It was grey in colour and it looked very red and sore at the gums. It looked like it was ready to come out. He carefully reached in, gently touching the tooth.

 The Womblecheep nearly hit the ceiling. He gave out a cry. It sounded like a herd of angry elephants. Matty flew backwards and rolled onto the floor with a bump. The Womblecheep was now furiously shaking his legs while holding onto his cheek, moaning and groaning while he did.

 “Was that it?” asked Matty.

 The Womblecheep rolled his eyes and nodded.

 “I got doothache,” he replied.

 “Why don’t you try and pull it out?” Matty suggested.

 The Womblcheep looked terrified at the suggestion.

 “Oh no no,” he said. “I couldn’t do that, it would ‘urt.”

 Matty moved over to the Womblcheep and pulled open his mouth, showing him all his teeth.

“I’ve been to the dentist many times,” he proclaimed. “It doesn’t hurt.”

 Matty pointed to various teeth and told the Womblecheep what he had done. Matty had been very brave indeed.

 “But how do you stop the pain? asked the Womblecheep.

 Matty smiled. “That’s easy,” he boasted. “The dentist gives you an injection in your gum, so you can’t feel anything.”

 The Womblecheep did not like the sound of this one bit. He didn’t like it at all. He was now terribly ashamed that Matty knew he was afraid of the dentist. There were other things the Womblcheep was afraid of; Thunder, mice, peanut butter and pidgeons. But he wasn’t going to tell Matty about them.

 What was he going to do? Poor Womblecheep. He wanted nothing more than to be outside, but the tooth was giving him so much pain, he didn’t want to do anything. Not even having his best friend in the whole world with him cheered him up.

 Matty now stroked his chin, this was a clear sign he was thinking as he hadn’t developed stubble yet. He looked deep in thought and sudedenly his face lit up, he’d had an idea.

 “Wait here Wombly, I’ll be right back,” he said.

 Matty turned and ran out the door. He sprinted across the fields and into town. He danced around old Miss Greenway. She tried to whack him with her stick, but he was too fast. So she just hissed at him. She really was grumpy today.

 He ran through town until he reached Mr Grazer’s farm. He ran in and stopped in the yard.  Twinkle, Mr Grazer’s black and white sheepdog came running over and immediately jumped up at Matty. Twinkle barked and danced, her tail wagging like a propellor.

 Mr Grazer appeared from the barn

 “‘Ello Matty, what brings you ‘ere?” he asked.

 “I need your help...and your tractor” said Matty.

 “My tractor?” Mr Grazer looked puzzled. “and what would you be needing that for?”

 Matty told him about the Womblecheep’s toothache. He thought he could tie a rope around the tooth, attach the other end to the tractor and pull it out that way. I know, a silly plan isn’t it?

 Mr Grazer laughed. His was a big booming laugh, just like Father Christmas. He also had a belly just like him, that was because his wife made the most perfect apple pie. Yummy.

 When Mr Grazer had finsihed laughing. It took him about two minutes. He looked at Matty.

 “OK then, I’ll ‘elp,” he said. “You hop on and we’ll see what we can do.”Matty climbed onto the red tractor and they set off for the Womblecheep’s house.

 When they got there, the Womblecheep was sat holding a frozen turkey to his face. This made Mr Grazer and Matty laugh instantly. The Womblcheep just rolled his eyes and continued moaning and groaning.

 Matty explained his plan to the Womblecheep who was less than impressed. But he had no choice, he wasn’t going to the dentist.

 Matty carefully tied the rope around the bad tooth. The Womblecheep fidgeted and squirmed. he didn’t like this at all. Mr Grazer tied the other end to the tractor and waited.

 “Ready when you are Matty,” he said.

 Matty looked at the Womblecheep and put his thumbs up. The Womblecheep just grimaced. This was going to hurt, he thought.

 “It’ll be fine, it won’t hurt,” said Matty.

 “One, two, three...pull,” he shouted.

 Mr Grazer started the engine and the tractor coughed and spluttered into life. It lurched forward. Slowly, the rope got tighter and tighter until it was as straight as an arrow.


The Womblecheep was pulled forward by the tractor. He gargled and groaned as the tractor carried him out of the door into the field. He waved his hands and tried to talk, but he had a mouth full of rope. Have you ever tried talking with a mouth full of rope?

 The tractor stopped and the Womblecheep plonked himself on the ground. He untied the rope and held his hand to his cheek. The pain was worse. What would he do?

 “It didn’t work,” he moaned.

 Matty thanked Mr Grazer, who drove away whistling to himself. Matty sat beside the Womblecheep who towered above him even sat down.

 “I’ve got an idea,” said Matty. “Follow me.”

 Matty headed back to the Womblecheep’s house. Holding his cheek and moaning more than ever, the Womblecheep followed slowly.

 Matty still held the rope that Mr Grazer had brought. So he tied one end to the kitchen door and the other around the Womblecheep’s tooth. Matty told him to think of nice things to take his mind of it, so the Womblecheep thought about eating cows and scaring adults, all things he’d now given up of course.

 The Womblecheep sat, nervous.

 “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” h asked.

 Matty nodded, and with that he slammed the kitchen door shut. The Womblecheep leapt out of the chair and stumbled forward. With an almighty crash he smashed through the wooden door and landed face first on a rug in the hallway.

 The Womblecheep was lead with his legs and arms spread out either side of him, he did look silly.

 Matty was stood with his arms on his hips. There was no other option.

 “We’re going to have to see Mr Molar the dentist” he said.

 The Womblecheep got to his feet and sighed. He really didn’t like the dentist. He protested, he moaned and he groaned but in the end he had to give up, he was going to the dentist.

 The waiting room was very quiet. there were lots of nervous looking people sat cross legged, waiting to be called in. From a room to the side the Womblecheep could hear a dentist’s drill and a shiver of fear ran through him. Matty patted him on the arm and reassured him.

 A young girl with pink ribbons in her hair was sat swinging her legs back and forth.

“Why are you here Wombly?” she asked.

 “I got a bad dooth ache,” he said.

 A door opened and a lady wearing all white stood in the waiting room.

 “Womblecheep?” she asked. But she knew who the Womblcheep was, everybody did.

 The Womblecheep looked at the lady, he was frightened. He wasn’t used to being frightened. The little girl jumped out of her seat and gave him a big hug. Just for a moment the Womblecheep didn’t feel so bad. The little girl sat back down and continued to swing her legs back and forth.

 The Womblecheep followed the lady.

 “You’ll be fine,” said Matty.

 They entered a room and the door closed behind them.

 Inside, there was a big dentist’s chair in the middle. Around the sides were white worktops filled with papers and strange looking instruments.

 Mr Molar smiled a big smile. His teeth were as white as snow. I bet he never gets toothache the Womblecheep thought.

 “It’s the funniest thing,” said Mr Molar, the dentist. “But I never get tootache”

 His assistant smiled and tried to relax the Womblecheep. She guided him onto the chair and told him to sit back.

 On the ceiling there were pictures of animals, and cartoons and a picture of a tooth with eyes and its own smile.

 In the background a radio played gentle, soothing music. The Womblecheep liked this.

 “OK, let’s get this over with, shall we?” said Mr Molar.

 He shuffled and scrambled with a tray to the side and turned round. In his hand was a syringe.

 The Womblecheep took one look and nearly jumped to the ceiling. He sat upright and began to panic.

 Unlike a small child, it’s not very easy to calm an eight foot tall monster. If he doesn’t want an injection, he won’t have an injection.

 The Womblecheep got to his feet and hid behind the chair, as if cornered by a bank robber. He was a very frightened Womblecheep indeed.

 Mr Molar returned the syringe to the table. “At least let me have a look at it Wombly?”

Slowly, the Womblecheep sat back down and laid back. He gripped the hand rests so hard that they snapped in his hands. Mr Molar looked inside, he had only just touched the tooth and..

 “Owwwwwwwwwww” cried the Womblecheep.

 Outside in the waiting room, the little girl cowered behind her Mother. A middle aged man dropped his magazine about fishing and ran out of the room.

 Mr Molar and his assistant leapt to the side as the Womblcheep jumped out of the chair and opened the door. He just managed to step outside when his legs became tangled and he feel to the floor like a falling tree.

 Crash. he landed face first on the floor. The people in the waiting room gasped. Matty knelt beside him.

 “Are you Ok Wombly?” he asked. “I shouldn’t have made you come, I’m sorry.”

 The Womblecheep sat up, looking thoroughly miserable. Mr Molar and his assistant were standing over him.

 “My dear fellow, are you alright?” asked Mr Molar.

 The Womblecheep nodded. They fetched him a glass of water and asked him to sit down.

 Next to them, the little girl had gotten on to the floor and was now on her hands and knees under the small table piled high with magazines.

 “Sophie, what are you doing?” asked her Mother.

 Sophie crawled backwards from under the table and danced up and down on the spot. She sang and she danced like she had won first prize in a dancing and singing contest.

 “What are you so happy about?” her Mother asked.

 Sophie walked over to where the Womblecheep was sat and opened her hand. In her palm, about the size of a golf ball was the grey tooth that had been giving the Womblecheep so much pain.

 “It’s gone, it’s gone,” she sang.

 The Womblecheep took the tooth in his hand and looked at it. This little thing gave me so much trouble he thought. He prodded his cheek, and there was no pain.

 He stood up, took Sophie’s hand and together they danced, the Womblecheep was laughing and giggling like a little girl. Everybody looked on and laughed.

 “The tooth’s gone, no more pain, I can eat cakes again,” he sang.

 The Dentist cleared his throat. The Womblecheep stopped dancing. he looked at Mr Molar who was stood with his hands on his hips.“Well, maybe just the ocassional one,” he said, smiling.

 The Womblecheep was so happy. Later that day he did go to Mr Granary’s baker shop. And he bought eight cream buns, just don’t tell Mr Molar.

 After that, the Womblecheep went to the dentist every six months. And to this day, he’s never had any problems. Brave Womblecheep.





The End

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