According to the package, in two hours or less, I will have a brighter smile. In retrospect, I realize that it says nothing about a whiter smile. So technically, I may come out of this with yellow, glow-in-the-dark teeth.

I should have gone for the tried and true (at least for a friend) route of Crest Whitening Strips. However, I was sold on the idea of submitting myself to the indignity of a drooly mouth for only two hours rather than the seven to fourteen days of the more traditional strips.

The kit includes three syringes of clear minty goo, two rubbery teeth trays for the goo to go in, and an instruction book saying how much goo you should use and for how long. In this case, how long is four twenty minute sessions with ten minute breaks in between, so, I supposed, for you to empty all the saliva in your mouth. Rembrandt does not encourage swallowing when using this product unless you want to experience side effects, much like my encounters with 7-11 hamburgers.

The first time around, I used too much. Big mistake. My gums felt like they were slowly dissolving in some kind of low-grade acid, even though the booklet clearly states the goo contains no acid. Tell that to my screaming gums, you bastards.

I’m on my second dose now, which burns less, although my gums now bear one or two disturbing white splotches. The booklet claims that these will vanish in a few hours, but with my luck they will the be the only thing the goo works on because I sure as hell couldn’t see any obvious whitening on my teeth.

Updates will follow, and we will find out if this minty burning crap is worth the twenty bucks I paid for it.