Ever since she discovered that the market for used dentures was a rigid oligopoly and therefore that she was going to have to pay full price for new ones, Harriet wished vehemently that the DOC DENTURE outlet (and, if possible, every other branch of Dr. Malarkey’s endlessly furcating dental empire) would be at the center of an exploding fireball sometime when she would be able to witness such a bolide, preferably under circumstances in which she could unselfconsciously evince both her vengeful joy and the full panorama of her toothless gums.