A/N: I only read the book and saw the first movie of 1975's "Jaws" so this short ignores the three sequels entirely. Based on an idea that came to me while messaging with a reader about an entirely different story.

Dentures

Matt Hooper studied the small boat that was sitting in the closed boathouse. The oceanographer ran his hand over the broken wood; bringing out a magnifying glass, he studied the damage more carefully.

"It's not the same" Martin Brody commented from behind him. The police chief of Amity Island rubbed his chin as he studied the man that studied the wood. "I don't know what it is about it, but my gut tells me it's not the same." After having his town menaced by a great white shark that got the hunter Quint and almost ended their lives, he was understandably edgy about any new activity.

"Your gut is right..." Hooper said, straightening up and stretching.

"I knew it!"

"...but I don't know if you're going to like this answer any better."

"Just as long as it's not worse; anything but worse" Brody said as he started to fidget. "Maybe Ellen's right and we should move; maybe Kansas. Yeah, no sharks in Kansas. Are you going to tell me or just keep it to yourself?"

"Well, as odd as it may sound...I don't think the damage was done by a shark. At least not a normal one."

Brody sat down with a thud. "When you say not normal, are you talking bigger than normal or bigger than the one we just got rid of?" He was thankful he had dragged the boat to someplace where prying eyes couldn't see it; all he needed was another round of panic and fake platitudes from Mayor Vaughn how everything was just fine.

"You got a screwdriver around here?" Hooper asked. The chief went to a workbench and rummaged around in a drawer until he found one and handed it to him. Working with a grunt and a muffled profanity, the oceanographer dug and chiseled until he pulled out a piece of metal and handed it Brody.

The chief turned the item over in his hand, looking at it as he adjusted his glasses. "It looks like...nope, I'm not saying it. What do you think it is?"

"A metal tooth."

"You said it, not me" Brody said as he excitedly started to pace. "I knew something was wrong. But that's not just wrong; it's crazy! Who would do such a thing? Why would you do such a thing? My God, HOW would you do such a thing?" He looked Hooper squarely in the eyes and spoke slowly. "Tell me that it's not possible and you don't know anyone that can do that."

The oceanographer shrugged.

"That's not the answer I was looking for, Matt. Go ahead - tell it to me straight, I can take it. Hell, maybe I can't but what difference does it make."

"There's this marine biologist I met quite a few years back. He was always a bit odd, even among our group. Anyway, more than once I heard him talking about the need for aquatic prostheses for animals. We all laughed and joked that he was designing underwater walkers for fish."

"And so after taunting him for years he went out and created a metal shark?"

"No, no, no...it doesn't have to be the whole shark. Just the teeth."

"Does he have a vendetta against beach goers?"

"How do I know? But this guy had a background in metallurgy too; if anyone could do it, he could. Allan Koozmann was his name."

"And I suppose he just happens to live nearby, right?"

"Well, I don't know for sure but he was in the area a few years ago. I can make a call to a friend and see what he knows" Hooper offered.

Brody stopped pacing and stood still. "What are you waiting for?"

...

The two men drove toward the house on the shore without speaking; a few times Brody almost said something only to lapse back into silence. Allan Koozmann was indeed in the area, and they were paying him an unannounced visit. The chief pulled his station wagon up beside a pickup truck with a large primer spot on the door; a trailer was hitched behind it. The house looked normal enough; next door stood an unattached shed that probably housed a workshop, based on the metal and tools lying about.

"You're the cop - do we sneak around or go to the front door?" Hooper asked.

"You're the one that's supposed to know him, so I say front door. Unless you used to sneak up on him before, too. Remember, officially we're just here to ask for his help."

Hooper scowled and got out of the car, and then walked toward the door. Brody actually had to hurry to catch up, although he couldn't help but look around just in case someone came around the corner. But no one came around and Hooper knocked on the door; someone shouted "Hold on, I'm coming" from inside and shortly afterward a scruffy middle-aged man swung the door open. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Allan?" Hooper asked.

The man looked at the oceanographer for a moment before the light of recognition dawned on his face. "I know you...Hooker?"

"Hooper. Yeah, that's me. This is Martin Brody, the police chief of Amity Island."

"Police chief?" Allan growled, and then coughed. "What, did I drive one mile an hour over the speed limit last month and you just now caught up to me?"

"No, nothing of the sort Mr. Koozmann. We're here to ask for your help, actually."

"Help? Don't know what I can help you with, but come on in." He left the door open and walked back into the house; sharing a glance, both men entered and Brody closed the door behind him. "I'm in the kitchen" a voice called from deeper within the house; the room they were standing in was cluttered with books, nautical bric-a-brad and sketches. A drafting table sat in one corner with an overhead light that illuminated the surface. Brody caught a glimpse of a large fish tank; inside was a fish that he could swear was wearing an eye patch. They continued walking in the direction of the voice and came to a small cluttered kitchen. "Coffee?" Koozmann asked.

"Sure" Brody agreed, just to be social. But instead of getting a clean cup, Koozmann dumped out the contents of the cup he was drinking from and refilled it before handing to the chief. Hooper waved off a cup; he probably would have had to share with Brody.

"Now you two must be pretty hard up to need my help; but then again, I heard about Quint poor bastard. I guess you need a new expert to use as chum, eh? Har har har" he laughed, before coughing again.

"Mr. Koozmann, we've got another possible shark problem on Amity Island's beachfront."

"Missing swimmer?"

"Yes."

"Sightings of a large shape moving though the water?"

"Yeah."

"Fish not coming around?"

"That's right."

"Maybe...something got bit?"

'Yes, Mr. Koozman."

"No idea what could cause it. Har har har" Koozmann started before another coughing fit interrupted his guffaws.

"You should see someone about that cough" Hooper suggested.

"What cough?" he gasped.

Exasperated, Brody interrupted. "Mr. Koozmann, people's lives may be in danger. Do you have any ideas at all what might be going on?"

"Well, I did notice something strange out on the sandbar here just offshore last week."

"What was that?" Hooper asked.

"I can't describe it really; I suppose I'd have to show you to get the idea of how odd it was. I suppose you want to go see it, do you?"

"If you would Mr. Koozmann, I'd be very appreciative."

"Alright. Bring a camera if you got one."

Brody looked embarrassed. He had a nice one - back at the station. "I...ah..."

"Oh, don't you worry officer; SOME of us are prepared." Koozmann reached up on a shelf and pulled down a camera; he checked the counter on the back. "Five more pictures left on the roll; that should be enough." He tossed the camera to Brody. "Did you bring a boat?" he asked Hooper.

"We brought his car" he said, tilting his head at Brody.

"Guess we'll have to use mine too. Come on out to the dock, we're wasting time." Koozmann checked to make sure the stove top was off and with a "follow me" walked out of the kitchen and out into the yard that faced the bay. He ambled along a sandy path that wound through low vegetation and ended at a small, somewhat shoddy pier just big enough for the one boat that was tied off there; with a grunt he climbed into the small vessel and waved them in. He walked to the stern and opened the gas tank to the outboard motor and stuck his nose in to smell. "That should be enough" he said, and sat on the seat beside the tiller.

The boat was something that a fisherman might use - if he had to traverse narrow rivers. With a sigh of resignation Brody and Hooper seated themselves, with Hooper in the middle and Brody near the bow. Koozmann pull started the motor, untied the boat and steered them away from the pier and the shore. "Are you still into marine biology?" Hooper asked as they moved along; the small motor was not designed to get anywhere in a hurry.

"Oh, I dabble - you know. I got my projects. Been trying to help the wee little ones that have trouble in the ocean, ya know."

"Like blind fish?" Brody shouted from his seat.

"He's not blind! Well, not in both eyes anyway. I put the patch on so he wouldn't get anything caught in the socket, poor fella."

"Any other patients?" Hooper prodded.

"Got a crab with an artificial leg that I turned on a lathe that I made out of a piece of ship's railing. Things like that."

Brody cocked an eyebrow at Hooper, who gave the slightest of shrugs in response. "So, what about this sandbar?"

"I said you'd have to see it. In fact, we're here now." Koozmann cut the motor and the boat drifted on the water.

Brody looked around. "I don't see a sandbar."

"Oh, it's...ah...high tide right now; of course it's underwater. But this is the spot." Koozmann slipped a pole out of the water and slapped it into the water before feeling around, knocking the side of the boat a few times. "Yup, this is the spot alright."

"About this problem we have..." Brody started to say.

"Speaking of problems," Koozmann interrupted "do you know how hard it is for a shark to eat when it doesn't have any teeth? It's a terrible thing; the poor beast will just starve to death slowly, suffering all the while."

"I never really thought about it" the chief responded. "But that brings up an interesting..." he started to say when the boat rocked after a solid bump. Brody grabbed both sides of the boat immediately. "What was that?"

"Just one of my patients" Koozmann said. "Better get that camera ready, har har" he laughed before coughing. Hooper stood up to look around and the boat was rocked much harder a second time, sending him over the side and into the water. He splashed and started to reach for the boat when a huge shape emerged from the water, rushing toward their location. With a thrash and a flash of silver metal jaws both Hooper and the shape were gone.

"What the hell was that?" Brody half screamed, half yelled. Koozmann tried to answer, but was caught up in another coughing spell; it didn't wipe the smile off his face though.

Brody caught the shape again, heading toward the bow from the starboard side. Yards away the shark's mouth came out of the water, metal teeth gleaming. A scream caught itself in his throat and he couldn't say anything; all he heard was Koozmann's cough and the slap of the water against the side of the boat. Closer and closer...

...

"Mr. Brody? Mr. Brody?" the voice said, coughing to get his attention. Martin opened his eyes and found himself reclining in a dentist's chair, with the usual lights and tool tray located nearby; some type of soft instrumental music was playing over a speaker. He turned his attention to the white-coated dentist, who was leaning over him. "Ah, I see you're awake now. How do you feel?"

"Cufuzed" he muttered. It was hard to talk.

"Confused? Oh, that must be a reaction to the anesthesia. Well, the good news is we're done for today. The bad news is, you're going to need a root canal on that molar; the infection is just too deep for me to drill out. I'm sorry."

"Woot canal? Iz tha aw? Phew" Brody said, relaxing. Compared to those metal dentures in his dream, even a root canal was less scary.

The End

A/N: As mentioned at the beginning, I was messaging with another author on here about horror movies when I mentioned facetiously that I do a geriatric shark movie called "Dentures"; the more I thought about it, the more I like the concept so I made a note and then came back a few months later to write this.