The Dentist Who Pulled His Own Tooth to Win a Bet

📖 Level 1 - Beginner:

A dentist made a bet with his friend. The bet was $100. The dentist said he could pull out his own tooth. His friend did not believe him. The dentist took a string. He tied the string to his tooth. He tied the other end to a door. Then he slammed the door. The tooth came out. He did not scream. He won the money. Then he went back to work.

📖 Level 2 – Intermediate:

In the early 1900s, a dentist named Dr. John Henry "Doc" Holliday (no relation to the famous gunfighter) loved making bets. One evening at a bar in Texas, a friend bet him $100 that he could not pull out one of his own teeth. Doc laughed and accepted. He was, after all, a dentist. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of string. He tied one end around a sore molar in the back of his mouth. He tied the other end around a heavy door handle. Then he asked someone to count to three. On three, he slammed the door with all his strength. The tooth flew out and hit the wall. Blood ran down his chin. Doc spit, smiled with a new gap in his teeth, and held out his hand. "One hundred dollars, please." His friend paid. Doc cleaned the wound with whiskey and returned to pulling other people's teeth the next morning. His patients reportedly asked no questions.

📖 Level 3 – Advanced:

The annals of bizarre medical history contain few stories as simultaneously impressive and unhinged as that of Dr. John Henry Holliday—not the infamous outlaw, but a respectable Texas dentist with a dangerous fondness for wagers. On a humid evening sometime around 1905, Holliday was enjoying whiskey in a crowded saloon when a rancher friend slapped the bar and announced, "Doc, I'll bet you a hundred dollars you can't pull your own tooth." Most men would have declined. Holliday set down his glass and smiled. He was, after all, a professional. He procured a length of sturdy twine, tied a slipknot around one of his own aching molars, and secured the opposite end to the brass handle of the saloon's heavy oak door. A crowd gathered. Someone lit a lamp for better viewing. Holliday instructed a bystander to count down from three. At the final count, he yanked the door open and slammed it shut with the full force of his body. The tooth rocketed across the room, leaving a constellation of blood droplets on the floorboards. The crowd gasped. Holliday spat a mouthful of crimson into a tin cup, examined the gap in his mirror, and extended a steady hand toward the rancher. "One hundred dollars," he said evenly. The rancher paid. Holliday poured whiskey over the wound, drank the rest, and returned to his practice the following morning. When asked by a patient why he suddenly had a missing tooth, he reportedly replied, "Professional curiosity." No known law prohibits dentists from treating themselves. But perhaps there should be.