Is there sumthin' in mah teef?

I'm a fanatical flosser. If you were to examine my teeth, you'd be impressed with the spacing between each. I make dentists weep because of my oral hygiene. But alas, it appears to be a curse. And I discovered this downfall whilst aboard the 723 this morning.

I won't get into what was in the Purolator bag, only that I used my teeth to tear it open. In the process, a rather large and very long strip of plastic lodged itself in the space between two of my bottom teeth.

We've just passed Whitby and despite a visit to the bathroom, I can't pull the plastic out. It's a rather long piece.

Shoppers Drug Mart can't come fast enough. Or a butter knife. All I can do is stuff the plastic into my mouth and wait for Union.

But at least no one can tell what I've done.
This isn't as bad as the time I split the seam in my pants, but it's up there.