On account of a penchant for ice cream and a distinct hatred of the toothbrush, I was forced to visit the dentist. It was with fear and trembling I opened my mouth and placed my gnashers in the control of an armed stranger. Sure enough, cavities abounded and various contraptions of torture were produced and laid out on a table ready to be put to use. Whilst I lay there, a conversation between the dentist and his assistant ensued. It related to the nature of God and how we should live. The dentist said that his God didn't mind how he lived, because his god was his “flexible friend.” The assistant, a devout Jehovah's Witness, pulled out her sacred book and began to refute the claims of the dentist. The discussion became more and more heated and consequently the drilling of my teeth became more frenetic. At one point the dentist, drill poised over my right incisor, asked for my agreement with him. I did not agree, but did not want to risk the ire of my passionate friend, so shrugg...