Exclusive Tooth Fairy Newsletter: It’s Time For The Tooth!

Tooth fairy newsletter
Be prepared. The Tooth Fairy isn’t as sane, or pleasant, as legend would have it.

Greetings, readers! Last week we bid farewell to the Easter bunny’s newsletter. Without missing a beat, we’re back with a new famous icon to supply us with all the latest fantastic, upbeat, brilliant, witty, and insightful (*ahem*) insights into the world of the, yes, Tooth Fairy!

You remember her! She takes the teeth children leave behind pillows and leaves a mere smidgen of funds (usually around 20p) as a trade. Wow! She lives in a castle in a fantastical world, and it’s from there she’s writing exclusively for Professional Moron. Hurray!

The Exclusive Tooth Fairy Newsletter

You may think being the Tooth Fairy is a glamorous and glorious profession. It used to be. Back in my day, when I was sprightly and full of the joys of merely donning my frilly pink fairy dress, I used to turn heads amongst the other fantasy figures whom I socialised with. The Easter Bunny and I used to flirt outrageously! Now, as you’ll have read in his final Easter Bunny Newsletter, he’s fled to some distant land and has adopted a pseudonym and a dodgy disguise.

Me? I’ve piled on the pounds and barely even fit in my frilly fairy dress. Indeed, my bosom is so tightly compacted in this thing it looks like I’m some English slapper out on the town trying to pull geezers. Which, of course, I am. Marrying some multi-millionaire is my ticket out of this ****hole and I’ll pursue this eventuality as vigorously as possible, even if it means dressing like a tramp. Currently, I have my eye on Rupert Murdoch. He’s 85 and looks like a dehydrated cowpat, but when you’re packing that sort of wealth I’m game!

Vocational Stresses

In the Tooth Fairy trade, it is my job to trade (effectively) the rotten or loose (usually the former) old teeth of infants. It’s not a great job but, heck, this is what happens when you don’t put maximum effort in at High School. So study hard, kids, you hear?

Sadly, my commitment to the duties I must pursue has been waning of late. Do I give a damn if today’s youths get some small change for one of their teeth? No. With their bloody iPads and games consoles, these bloody kids don’t know they’re bloody born! Once, many years ago when I first started out as the tooth fairy (I took on the role after the former Tooth Fairy, a pleasant woman named Doris, choked to death on a toothbrush), a child whom received 50p off of me shrieked hysterically in delight. I was overjoyed!

The other day a four year old seized the 20p I had thoughtfully left for him under his pillow, strode confidently into his parent’s bedroom, pelted it at his father’s head as he slept, and bellowed: “WHAT IN THE NAME OF **** IS THIS HORSE****? I WANTED A CAR!” He went on to decimate his parent’s bedroom with his fists as his mother cooed sympathetically about his evident disappointment.

These spoilt little ****s don’t realise there’s been a recession which has hit us all! Why else would I be so tight as to hand over only 20p pieces? Well… there is… that reason. The reason I’m not supposed to mention. Oh well, I guess I signed up for these newsletter for a reason – to cleanse my soul and, like in Crime and Punishment, find some form of redemption.

Tumultuous Times

For years I found this a decent trade. I’d get the teeth, leave a 50p piece for the snivelling brat of a child. I did this happily for ages, but then got bored. To liven things up a bit, I began taking the teeth off to crush them down and sell the white powder off as a cheap Class A narcotic to dim-witted drugs barons. With this practice I could earn up to £100,000 for a nightly haul.

Why didn’t I retire? I soon grew greedy and wanted more. More! Those baby and milk teeth were all I could think about, and I began to dream of teeth. Soon I couldn’t even sleep anymore, and to try and nod off I’d count teeth leaping over fences and put on the sound of whale music knowing full well those big buggers have massive great big pearly whites!

This lunacy, unfortunately, ground to a sudden halt when I was caught by the pigs (police, in popular parlance) when my brethren bitched me out to the narks. Instead of facing jail time, I must now work a lifetime as the Tooth Fairy unpaid, unrewarded, and under 24/7 CCTV surveillance. This is “community service”… you think I’m happy about it? No I bloody well am not, but I’m here… writing my newsletter. Read them and heed my terrible tale!



  1. I always wondered what happened to the tooth Fairy. I had no idea she became a gangsta. The Murdoch thing is a good idea, but Jerry Hall just beat her to him. Perhaps there’s another rich old geezer somewhere? South America? An ex-dictater?

    Liked by 1 person

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