Would you get a root canal from a Muppet?

I was trying to tell my students what it felt like to get a root canal from an endodontist who looks just like Dr. Bunsen Honeydew but they said Who's Bunsen Honeydew, which made me want to throw in the towel right there and then because I'm clearly getting too old to communicate with these infants, but then one of them said Is he the Muppet in the lab with Beaker? and I breathed a sigh of relief, but by then I'd ventured pretty far from the point of the story, which is that I spent two hours this morning having my jaw and face stretched and immobilized so a bunch of sharp, whiny dental instruments could do horrible violent things to one of my teeth--a tooth that required attention from a specialist because the roots are curvy, much like the rest of me--and to multiply the usual horrors and indignities of dental care, the face of the man wielding those instruments looked just like Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, which made me want to either laugh or scream (because of Dr. Bunsen Honeydew's calamitous klutziness with tools in clips like this one) except I couldn't do either because I couldn't move my mouth, so that I had to grunt faintly when Dr. Not-Bunsen-Honeydew asked me repeatedly whether I was doing okay, and when I really needed a rest room break so as to avoid an embarrassing incident in his nice sanitary endodontal office, my attempt to say rest room caused the endodontist to respond, So you say you're Russian?, which I'm not, and even if I were Russian I doubt that I would feel the need to convey that information whilst having my rotten curvy tooth drilled by a guy who looks like Dr. Bunsen Honeydew.

But I made it to the rest room without incident and I survived my root canal and I taught my classes, despite feeling about 102 years old, and the novocaine had worn off by the time classes were over so now my primary goal in life is to hunt down some pain-killers and call it a day. A bizarre day, but at least the hard part is over.