Preface

Greetings, mortals.

It’s me, Mortimer Graves. You may know me by my more popular stage name—The Grim Reaper. That’s right. The guy with the scythe. The one who shows up when you choke on a pretzel or slip in the shower or—if you’re really unlucky—find yourself trapped in a conversation with someone whose breath smells like they’ve been gargling battery acid and rotting fish.

I have been watching you humans for a long time. I have witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the construction of great cities, the invention of the wheel, fire, and even the abomination known as “pumpkin spice breath spray.” And yet, despite all your so-called progress, one thing has remained unchanged: your breath still stinks.

I have written this book not as an act of charity but as a warning. Bad breath has shaped history. It has started wars, ended marriages, and possibly even accelerated the downfall of entire civilizations. Did the Roman Empire collapse because of political instability? Sure. But did it help that half the senators were screaming at each other with mouths that smelled like a festering sewer? No, it did not.

Through these pages, you will learn the dark, twisted, and downright foul-smelling history of halitosis. From cavemen who weaponized their morning breath to medieval kings whose tooth decay could clear a throne room, I will guide you through the ages of oral horror. And, if by some miracle, you reach the end of this book and realize that yes, your own mouth is a ticking time bomb of bacteria and shame, then I have done my job.

So sit back, breathe through your nose (for everyone’s sake), and prepare for the unfiltered truth.

It’s time to kill bad breath.

Permanently.