On a recent episode of Roderick on the Line the guys has some fun with dentists. I think I will forever associate dentistry with a bit from one of Alfred Bester's short stories, "5,271,009", in which our hero is presented with a variety of "last man on earth" fantasies, and must face the flaw in each. You can read the whole thing in Virtual Unrealities, a collection of Bester's short stories (or you can read it here), but the bit I remember is from one of the shortest "last man" excursions:
He was the last man on earth.
He was the last man on earth and he howled.
The hills, the valleys, the mountains and streams were his, his alone, and he howled.
Five million two hundred and seventy-one thousand and nine houses were his for shelter, 5,271,009 beds were his for sleeping. The shops were his for the breaking and entering. The jewels of the world were his; the toys, the tools, the playthings, the necessities, the luxuries... all belonged to the last man on earth, and he howled.
He left the country mansion in the fields of Connecticut where he had taken up residence; he crossed into Westchester, howling; he ran south along what had once been the Hendrick Hudson Highway, howling; he crossed the bridge into Manhattan, howling; he ran downtown past lonely skyscrapers, department stores, amusement palaces, howling. He howled down Fifth Avenue, and at the corner of Fiftieth Street he saw a human being.
She was alive, breathing; a beautiful woman. She was tall and dark with cropped curly hair and lovely long legs. She wore a white blouse, tiger-skin riding breeches and patent leather boots. She carried a rifle. She wore a revolver on her hip. She was eating stewed tomatoes from a can and she stared at Halsyon in unbelief. He ran up to her.
"I thought I was the last human on earth," she said.
"You're the last woman," Halsyon howled. "I'm the last man. Are you a dentist?"
"No," she said. "I'm the daughter of the unfortunate Professor Field, whose well-intentioned but ill-advised experiment in nuclear fission has wiped mankind off the face of the earth with the exception of you and me who, no doubt on account of some mysterious mutant strain in our makeup which it make us different, are the last of the old civilization and the first of the new."
"Didn't your father teach you anything about dentistry?"
"No," she said.
"Then lend me your gun for a minute."
She unholstered the revolver and handed it to Halsyon, meanwhile keeping her rifle ready. Halsyon cocked the gun.
"I wish you'd been a dentist," he said.
"I'm a beautiful woman with an I.Q. of 141 which is more important for the propagation of a brave new beautiful race of men to inherit the good green earth," she said.
"Not with my teeth it isn't," Halsyon howled.
He clapped the revolver to his temple and blew his brains out.