<html><head><meta name="color-scheme" content="light dark"></head><body><pre style="word-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;">ƒ�Chi Chi Lambada's Dental Hygiene Heaven cubicle is far from typical. Instead of Muzak, hot salsa music plays over a powerful stereo system. And how strange: the center of the carpet shows signs of extensive wear.�Try establishing eye contact first.�She's not interested in that, Larry. Talk to her; use your charm.�Is that the only thing on your mind?�(Don't answer that!)�"I can't take any more of this, Ms. Lambada," you cry, "I hate the taste of latex gloves!"�"You know, Ms. Lambada," you say as she inserts her hands into your mouth, "I wmwpafz fqpzvi uht cpwexf kpazxccxwq!"�You can't do that while lying in a dentist's chair.�You think to yourself, "Where else do you pay someone lots of money to insert metal objects into your mouth in order to inflict lots of pain?"�You hear someone coming.�"Well, Mr. Laffer, shall we get started?"�"Oh, I don't know," you protest. "I hate dental work so much, I think I'd rather have a baby!"�"Well, make up your mind," says Chi Chi. "I've gotta adjust the chair!"�"Say, Larry. Have you ever considered dental floss as an aphrodisiac?"�"Just a few more seconds and I'll have that nasty old tooth of yours pu..., er, uh, cleaned!"�"I'm all done, Mr. Laffer!"�Wow! You can now readily understand how she got that name! Take a look at those Chi Chi's!�"Well, I might be interested, Larry," says Chi Chi. "But what about a little conversation first?"�"Why don't we go downstairs to my apartment behind the gymnastics studio where I'll be able to express my appreciation in a more acceptable manner?"�(All right, Larry! It sounds like you're going to get a home-cooked meal for a change!)�A few minutes later,
downstairs in the
gymnastics studio...�</pre></body></html>