DentalTek 2024
INT. ALLEYWAY - NIGHT
The city is a husk of its former self. Towering, dilapidated skyscrapers loom in the distance, their broken windows glowing faintly with flickers of malfunctioning neon signs. Streets are cracked and uneven, littered with debris. The air smells faintly of burnt metal and decay. Skies are dark, overcast with industrial smog. In the shadows of an alley, RYDER, early 30s, stands face-to-face with a thick, battle-scarred man. The atmosphere is tense, broken only by the faint hum of distant machinery and the buzz of neon lights flickering in and out above them.
THICK MAN
(gruff)
You should’ve stayed down, kid.
Ryder spits, wiping blood from his split lip. His knuckles are raw, his breath ragged. The Thick Man lunges, throwing a brutal punch. Ryder twists, but not fast enough. A sharp crack echoes as the punch lands square on his jaw. A tooth goes flying, spinning in slow motion through the air.
RYDER
(gasping, stumbling)
Shit!
Ryder crashes against the alley wall, sliding down as the pain surges through him. The Thick Man laughs, turning away with a swagger, satisfied with the damage done.
THICK MAN
Next time, don’t run your mouth.
Ryder clutches his bleeding mouth, his tongue feeling the jagged gap where his tooth used to be. The world spins as he watches the Thick Man disappear into the night. The sound of footsteps fades, leaving only the low hum of the dying city. Ryder groans, pushing himself to his feet, spitting more blood onto the dirty ground.
INT. RYDER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Ryder’s apartment is cramped and rundown, filled with scavenged tech and discarded tools. The walls are metallic, rusted in spots, and the lighting is dim, casting harsh shadows over the mess of wires, gadgets, and makeshift repairs scattered across the floor. A busted-out window hums with the occasional flicker of neon from the streets below.
He stands in front of a cracked mirror in his small bathroom, pulling his mouth open, inspecting the damage. Blood drips from the empty socket in his gums. He winces.
RYDER
(muttering)
Fuck.
He steps to a small cabinet, opening it to reveal a sleek, futuristic case labeled "DentalTek: DIY Implant Kit." The case gleams under the weak light, an odd juxtaposition to the grime around it. Ryder opens it, revealing a compact, high-tech set of tools—an ergonomic drill with glowing blue indicators, tiny robotic arms, and a shiny replacement tooth sitting neatly in the foam padding.
The tools are advanced but designed for at-home use—like dental care had been outsourced to the individual. He pulls out the drill, holding it up to the light as it hums quietly to life, the tip rotating with precision. The screen on the side of the drill flashes instructions in pale blue light:
“Step 1: Identify Implant Socket. Step 2: Begin Socket Drilling. Caution: Use Proper Anesthesia.”
RYDER
(grimacing)
No time for that.
He takes a deep breath and leans into the mirror, positioning the drill over the gap in his gums. His hands are steady despite the pain and exhaustion. The futuristic drill is sleek and smooth, the faint hum barely noticeable as it makes contact with his gums.
The moment the drill touches, Ryder’s face tightens in pain, but he doesn’t flinch. The drill cuts cleanly into the bone, the soft glow of the tool illuminating his mouth from within.
For a moment, all that can be heard is the whir of the drill and Ryder’s heavy, controlled breathing. He grits his teeth, gripping the sink until his knuckles are white. Sweat drips down his forehead.
RYDER
(under his breath)
Almost... there...
The drill retracts with a soft ping. Ryder sets it down, blood trickling from his gums, but the hole is perfect—precisely where it needs to be. He picks up the small implant, a tiny metallic cylinder with embedded tech, placing it carefully into the new socket.
With one final breath, Ryder presses the implant into place. It clicks, locking into his jaw with a smooth whir. He watches in the mirror as it integrates instantly, syncing with his body’s nerve signals. The gum around the implant starts to fuse almost immediately, thanks to the advanced tech within.
RYDER
(exhaling)
Now for the crown.
From the kit, he picks up the tooth—ceramic white, a perfect replica of the one he lost. The crown clicks into place on top of the implant, snapping in with a finality that leaves Ryder staring at his reflection, mouth bloodied but whole again.
RYDER
(smirking)
Good as new.
He rinses his mouth, the blood swirling down the drain. The city outside is still humming its derelict, broken tune, but Ryder feels in control again. He runs his tongue over the new tooth, testing it.
INT. RYDER'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Ryder slumps onto his couch, the dim light of his room casting long shadows. The pain is already starting to fade as he presses a button on his old, beat-up console.