Hal: Oh, my tooth!
Trey: Please, let the dentist take a look.
Hal: It's this one.
Trey: Uh-oh, #31 is cracked.
Hal: Is that important?
Trey: Only for eating and talking. It's one of the glory boys. You better get that fixed.
Hal: Great. My company doesn't have a dental plan anymore. They got us a foosball table instead.
Brian: So where you been going?
Hal: The dental college. It's not too bad, but they do make you sign a death waiver.
Trey: Forget about that. Come by my office on Monday, and I'll take care of it.
Hal: Really?
Trey: Absolutely.
Hal: Wow, it's been so many years since I've been to a real dentist. Do you supply the ether rag, or should I bring my own?