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It was 5.30pm on the eve of comic-con. We'd set up our tables and had just hungry-shopped the Nisa, filling our bags with all kinds of impulsive purchases. A sack of mini chocolate-filled croissants. 3 yards of meat. Apple pie biscuits. Blue Fanta (it was elderflower flavour, apparently). Hungry and exhausted after a day of heavy-bag travel, wristband-wrangling and table set-up, we piled ourselves onto the DLR back to the hotel and stuffed mini croissants into our dry, furry mouths.

I noticed Seb had something written on her hand. "MAKE UP TOOTH" it said. "Haha," I remarked. "Did you manage to make up some teeth, then?" "Mnghrgh," said Seb, which I think in this context translates to "Lucian I am tired, why must we play", but to her credit, she said, "Fizzdom Teeth."

Three hours later, the zine was completed. Paper stolen from the Travelodge reception, scrawled in Sharpie at the table at Wagamamas, while I piled ramen into my mouth. Photocopied and stapled in the copy shop at the convention hall, which was staffed by two very humourless middle-aged men who merely grunted their consent to me using their stapler.

And now, you can own it. A testament to lightning-fast collaborative art, PLUS it comes with a gorgeous TOOTH WHEEL odontomantic talisman, which is conveniently adhesive on one side. A "sticker", if you will.

Come learn about teeth you didn't know you had.