Scowl Dental Centre is a gritty inner-city seven-man practice owned by a cynically gritty seen-it-all-done-that practitioner, Gregory Bungalow. Not quite so gritty, but certainly a bit pumice-like, Lisa Cussy is the long-suffering practice manager who tries to steer the practice through the financial quagmire and regulation-laden mess that is dentistry in the UK.
While Bungalow is a capable practitioner, he’s frankly an abrasive, idle toad and misanthropic maverick who wouldn’t spit in your mouth if your teeth were on fire. Because he hates patients, and people in particular, he restricts himself to ‘managing’ and giving ‘advice’ to his young associates. He fancies himself as a diagnostician and has self-diagnosed himself with a hiatus hernia. He has a self-destructive 32-tablets-a-day Gaviscon habit.
Episode One
Could It Be Lupus?
SCENE ONE
INTERIOR. DAY. A HOME STUDY.
A MAN IN HIS EARLY THIRTIES SITS AT HIS COMPUTER, HEAD SLUMPED IN HIS HANDS. HIS WIFE ENTERS WITH A TRAY OF TEA AND BISCUITS.
TRACY: Oh dear Terry. CQC report going badly?
MR WRIGGLY: I can’t face this much more Tracy. It’s sucking the life out of me. I know this dental practice doesn’t normally use plastic protective tubing on their turbine pipework EXCEPT when we visit, but I HAVE to pass them. The place stank of bleach when I went in. It normally smells of bad gums.
TRACY: I know you’re getting stressed because you were at it again last night.
MR WRIGGLY: I WASN’T !!! I was looking up a regulation on the net….
TRACY: I meant you were grinding again.
MR WRIGGLY: Oh.
TRACY: What did you think I meant?
MR WRIGGLY: Nothing. Are those my favourite biscuits?
TRACY: Yup. Hobnobs.
MR WRIGGLY: (NIBBLING AT THE HOBNOB) That’s it! That’s what dental staff rooms normally smell like. Bad gums and Hobnobs!
TRACY: Look love. Take your mind off it for five minutes and drink your tea.
MR WRIGGLY: OK.
WRIGGLY TAKES A SIP. HIS FACE CONTORTS INTO A GHASTLY RIGOR.
MR WRIGGLY: (VERY QUIETLY) Ouch!
SMASH CUT TO AN ANATOMICAL CGI GRAPHIC. WE SEE THE TEA HIT AN UPPER MOLAR FROM THE INSIDE OF THE MOUTH. WE SEE THE TOOTH GLOW AN INTENSE RED, THEN THE GRAPHIC TURNS INTO AN INTERNAL REPRESENTATION OF THE TOOTH, THE PULP SWELLING AND PULSING DRAMATICALLY. THE GRAPHIC PULLS OUT AND WE SEE THE NERVE IMPULSE SHOOT RIGHT UP TO THE CEREBRAL CORTEX AND STRAIGHT BACK DOWN, FOR SOME REASON, TO HIS GENITALIA AND BACK UP TO HIS BRAIN AND DOWN AGAIN LIKE A PINBALL MACHINE.
TRACY: (DISTRESSED) Terry? TERRY? What’s wrong?
FADE OUT
SCENE TWO
INTERIOR. DAY. THE HYGIENIST’S ROOM.
WE CAN CLEARLY SEE THIS IS THE HYGIENIST’S ROOM, BECAUSE WHILE SHE’S BEEN OFF, ALL THE EQUIPMENT HAS BEEN NICKED BY THE DENTISTS.
BUNGALOW IS SITTING IN THE OPERATOR’S STOOL, NOISILY THROWING A CRICKET BALL AGAINST THREE LARGE CARDS ON THE WALL LABELLED, 1, 2 AND 3. AFTER EACH THROW, HE WRITES SOMETHING ON A NOTEPAD. CUSSY KNOCKS THE DOOR BUT MARCHES IN WITHOUT INVITE.
BUNGALOW CARRIES ON WHAT HE IS DOING.
CUSSY: Bungalow! What are you doing?
BUNGALOW: Just doing my x-ray assessments like you told me. (HE THROWS AGAIN).
CUSSY: So this is how you do them? Don’t you take the guidelines seriously?
BUNGALOW: (THROWING TWO GAVISCON IN HIS MOUTH) Mmmm. Strawberry. Yum. Look Cussy, the regulations are only there to satisfy the lawyers, otherwise they’re complete BS. Nobody looks at them unless the weasels at the Mental Law Partnership get hold of a case. Anyway, what do you want….you’re looking hot today. A date?
CUSSY: Thank you, but no. New profile pic for the website. Anyway, don’t throw me off the track. I’ve got a pain patient I want you to see.
BUNGALOW: Don’t do pain patients, as well you know. WAY too boring….not to mention icky. I hate the smell of sweat and pus first thing in the morning. Get one of the associates to see ‘em.
CUSSY: NO! They’ve already seen him and they can’t figure what’s wrong. You’re our only hope. Besides which, this one’s…special.
BUNGALOW: Special? Special how?
DRAMATIC MUSIC AND ROLL OF DRUMS
CUSSY: He’s…..Pay As You Go Private.
EVEN BUNGALOW STOPS IN MID THROW
FADE OUT
SCENE THREE
INTERIOR. DAY.
BUNGALOW, FIVEMAN (AN AMERICAN), CHASEM (AN AUSTRALIAN) AND CAMILLA (A YOUNG FEMALE ASSOCIATE) ARE ALL SITTING IN THE RECEPTION AREA AT LUNCHTIME
BUNGALOW: So, dream team, what we got?
FIVEMAN: Fit male, regular attender, thirty five. Sudden hypersensitivity with drinking hot fluids. Went away after a few minutes. Has recurred a couple of times today.
CHASEM: It’s pretty bad. He’s drinking everything on the other side.
CAMILLA: (With a very concerned look on her face). He’s really worried. He’s got a holiday coming up at the end of the week.
BUNGALOW: OK team. What information did you leave out?
FIVEMAN: It’s sharp and then it throbs a bit….
BUNGALOW: NO! How long has it been going on?
CAMILLA: A few days.
BUNGALOW: A few days? I doubt it. ALL patients LIE. I bet it’s been going on for weeks. Have we got any x-rays?
CHASEM: No, bitewings were done four years ago. Low caries risk you see.
BUNGALOW: Right. I want bitewings and a periapical, STAT. Tell him the little yellow holders are going to hurt him really bad. And Fiveman…
FIVEMAN: Yes?
BUNGALOW: Use rectangular collimation.
FIVEMAN’S SHOULDER’S DROP AS HE WALKS OUT WITH THE OTHERS.
FADE OUT
SCENE FOUR
EXTERIOR. DAY. THE SMOKING GARAGE NEXT TO THE PRACTICE
BUNGALOW IS CLEANING HIS NAILS WITH THE BLUNT END OF A BPE PROBE. WINSOME (THE LOCAL PERIODONTIST AND BUNGALOW’S ONLY FRIEND, APPROACHES)
WINSOME: Bungalow, I thought you’d be here…and putting a BPE probe to it’s proper use I see.
BUNGALOW: Shouldn’t you be snogging one of your cured ex-perio patients right now?
WINSOME: I would be if I wasn’t facing a law suit for recommending dental tape. The reason I’m here is that Cussy is getting concerned about your increased Gaviscon intake. Do you think you should now seek a proper opinion?
BUNGALOW: Nah. Besides, they help reduce my Snickers intake.
WINSOME: I mean, where are you getting the drugs from?
BUNGALOW: Tesco. If the same woman is on the rapid checkout till, I go to Lidl. The girl at Tesco is getting suspicious.
WINSOME: You are never right in the head.
BUNGALOW: Reallly? I’m not the one who uses the ‘F’ word to patients.
WINSOME: Huh?
BUNGALOW: Floss!
DRAMATIC MUSIC
FADE
SCENE FIVE
INTERIOR. DAY. A SURGERY
MR WRIGGLY IS IN THE DENTAL CHAIR. HIS WIFE IS IN THE NURSE’S CHAIR. THE NURSE (AMY) WALKS IN.
AMY: That’s my chair.
TRACY: (MOVING OUT THE WAY). Sorry, I thought it was…
AMY: And I wouldn’t put your keys and phone in the spittoon by the way either.
TRACY: Sorry, I…..
AMY: People hoik in there sometimes.
TRACY: Oh…I’ll
AMY: And gob up if they’ve had a cold….
BUNGALOW, FIVEMAN, CHASEM AND CAMILLA WALK IN.
BUNGALOW: So, Mr Whinger.
MR WRIGGLY: Wriggly.
BUNGALOW: Wriggly, Whinger, what’s the diff? You’re still just three UDA’s to me. (POINTS TO TRACY). Has she ever hit you?
MR WRIGGLY: (APPALLED) WHAT? NO OF COURSE NOT!
BUNGALOW: (TO HIS TEAM) We can rule out fractured cusp syndrome then. Fiveman. Put up the radiographs.
FIVEMAN BRINGS UP THE X-RAYS ON SCREEN. THEY ARE ALL CUT OFF.
BUNGALOW: They’re all cut off. Idiot.
FIVEMAN: (SHEEPISHLY) I know, it’s those collimators. I always take them off unless we’re getting a visit.
BUNGALOW: We need an OPG. Refer him to the local hospital. Have we got any forms?
CAMILLA: I think I’ve got one. I’ll have to photocopy it.
DRAMATIC MUSIC
FADE
SCENE SIX
INTERIOR. DAY. IN THE STAFF ROOM
THREE WEEKS LATER. BUNGALOW, FIVEMAN, CHASEM AND CAMILLA ARE IN A CIRCLE
BUNGALOW: So. The OPG’s back. What does it tell us?
FIVEMAN: Nothing?
BUNGALOW: Precisely. Give that man a year’s supply of dental floss. Zilch. So what we gonna do? There’s no sign of caries or periodontal pathology. No history of trauma. Gums are pretty reasonable. His bite’s alright. Fiveman. You’re the American, what do you think?
FIVEMAN: Well I’d expand the arches with headgear. Fixed for five years.
BUNGALOW: Chasem. What would an Australian do, mate? Quadrant dentistry? From the four to the eight. MOD’s. Then book your flight back home?
CHASEM: Er…..yeah.
BUNGALOW: I despair. Camilla, you’re from a private school. What would you do?
CAMILLA: Refer to a private practitioner Daddy knows.
BUNGALOW: WE HAVEN’T EVEN GOT A DIAGNOSIS YET. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT ALL OF YOU!!
FADE
SCENE SEVEN
INTERIOR. DAY. CUSSY’S OFFICE.
BUNGALOW IS SITTING ON THE EDGE OF CUSSY’S DESK, PLUCKING HIS NOSTRIL HAIRS WITH A PAIR OF MOSQUITO FORCEPS.
CUSSY: Bungalow, I’ve had a complaint?
BUNGALOW: Let me guess, the Whiney family?
CUSSY: Of course the Whiney family….I mean the Wriggly family. First you accuse the wife of thumping him then his holiday was ruined because you had to wait three weeks for an OPG to come back. Apparently while they were in the Algarve, he couldn’t eat ice-cream his teeth were so sensitive.
THE CAMERA SLOWLY AND DRAMATICALLY MOVES IN AS BUNGALOW FINALLY REALISES WHAT’S WRONG
BUNGALOW: That’s it! Ben and Jerry’s. (EXITS)
CUSSY: (SHOUTING) What? Oi. Take your nostril hairs with you.
DRAMATIC MUSIC
FADE
SCENE EIGHT
INTERIOR. DAY. A DENTAL SURGERY
MR WRIGGLY IS IN THE CHAIR. TRACY IS STANDING BY THE WALL, EXCHANGING GLANCES WITH AMY WHO IS SITTING ON HER STOOL. BUNGALOW, CHASEM, FIVEMAN AND CAMILLA ARE ALL STANDING AROUND.
BUNGALOW: We think we know what’s wrong with you.
MR WRIGGLY: Really? That’s great. Is it serious?
TRACY: What is it Doctor Bungalow? It’s not Lupus?
BUNGALOW: (ANNOUNCING IT DRAMATICALLY) Dentine hypersensitivity.
THE WHOLE ROOM GASPS
BUNGALOW: (TURNING TO FIVEMAN): Give him 1.1% Sodium Fluoride toothpaste twice a day. And give him Duraphat, not the cheap stuff.
BUNGALOW SUDDENLY SOFTENS AND SMILES BENIGNLY AT THE COUPLE.
BUNGALOW: (PATTING WRIGGLY ON THE SHOULDER) You’ll be fine.
BUNGALOW EXITS
BUNGALOW: (SHOUTING OVER HIS SHOULDER, POPPING TWO GAVISCON) And by the way. Never Floss!
FADE OUT
THEME MUSIC AND CREDITS
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