The local dentist, Doctor John, as the town folks called him, had a vicious temper and was famous for his grudges. This day would be his last day in Valdosta, Georga.

Sitting before his rolltop desk, his feet propped up on a packed valise, he lighted up a cheroot, enjoying the mellow taste as the smoke drifted lazily to the ceiling. From his window he could see the Georga Star Saloon across the sun baked dirt road. And behind the saloon smoke from an idling train climbed towards the heavens in the still air. He would miss all those days and nights of poker playing. He had won and lost a small fortune in that place, but thanks to Frank Bishop he was going to leave town today.

He pulled his watch out. Frank Bishop was due in ten minutes. He swung away from his desk and retrieved his white coat from behind the door. Frank was coming to have a tooth pulled, but John had other plans for him.

John busied himself getting the instruments lined out and the nitrous oxide ready for his victim.