Filthy M.
Yelp
I was sitting at the bar the other night, next to a spectacular older gentleman, who could only realistically be described as "gnarly." His beard was white and down to about his waist, his hair was stringy and styled similarly to Friar Tuck. As he turned to me he said, "What the hell is on yer shirt boy?" His breath was terrible and he had three teeth.
"It's an armadillo." I replied.
"An armadillo? Kids these days, with their skinny jeans, stupid mustaches, and comb overs, they are all filler." His breath wasn't getting any better, but I know an intellectual when I speak with one.
"Filler? I believe you have me mistaken with some bicycle riding, craft beer drinking, stylish snob! Perhaps you failed to notice the corn Cobb pipe said armadillo is smoking. This my good man is 100% killer."
After that it was all shots of Buffalo Trace and sophistication.
As I was about to leave the gnarly old man said, "you know what kid, I'd love to have that shirt! Let me trade you something for it."
Before I could respond he reached in his mouth and pulled out one third of his remaining tooth. Blood and salvia went all over the bar.
I examined the tooth closely, next to a human ear it's probably the best thing to make a necklace out of. I looked at the old man and could tell he had bad knees, so I clasped the tooth in my hand and sprinted out the door.
To this day I wear that Industry Bastards shirt and my single tooth necklace everyday.