RFK Jr. Suggests Replacing Toothpaste Fluoride with Ivermectin

Washington, D.C. — Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. unveiled his department’s newest public health initiative: replacing fluoride in toothpaste with ivermectin, the controversial horse dewormer turned folk remedy.

Standing before a bewildered audience at a podium dramatically decorated with an oversized toothbrush and a conspicuous tube of toothpaste branded “Freedom Paste,” Kennedy Jr. delivered his announcement with sincerity.

“For decades,” Kennedy proclaimed earnestly, “Americans have been unknowingly sedated by fluoride—chemically coerced into compliance with government mandates and mainstream narratives. It’s time we brush away the lies and restore dental liberty once and for all.”

Pausing briefly to display the toothpaste tube—emblazoned with a star-spangled horse galloping triumphantly over a fallen fluoride molecule—Kennedy Jr. continued, “With ivermectin, we offer a minty fresh path to both impeccable oral hygiene and independent thought.”

Questionable Data, Unquestionable Confidence

Kennedy’s ambitious proposal was immediately reinforced by what he described as “groundbreaking research” from the recently formed and reassuringly vague “National Institute of Patriotic Dentistry” (NIPD). According to Kennedy, NIPD’s rigorous scientific inquiry has conclusively shown that fluoride consumption leads directly to a little-known but deeply troubling condition: “Governmental Submission Syndrome,” or GSS.

Symptoms of this alarming condition, according to the Secretary’s earnest PowerPoint slides, include:

• An uncontrollable urge to pay taxes on time, often accompanied by inexplicable feelings of civic pride and inexplicable confidence in TurboTax software.
• Belief in climate change, manifesting as a bizarre willingness to recycle aluminum cans, drive hybrids, or at least pretend to when neighbors are looking.
• The inability to question the moon landing, no matter how many compelling YouTube videos one watches suggesting Stanley Kubrick staged it using leftover props from 2001: A Space Odyssey.

When pressed for details on the methodology behind NIPD’s study, Kennedy enthusiastically explained that it was conducted over a weekend by surveying three neighbors who happened to be home and a golden retriever named Max, who was conveniently available and known locally for his exceptionally compliant temperament. The results, he asserted with dramatic sincerity, were “absolutely conclusive.”

“In each case,” Kennedy stressed, tapping his laser pointer urgently against the screen to highlight a particularly compelling bar graph drawn in crayon, “we found a 100% correlation between fluoride use and sheep-like behavior. Even Max, who received regular fluoride treatments at his vet, showed alarming signs of blind obedience—fetching sticks without question and blindly trusting humans who clearly can’t throw properly.”

Kennedy briefly paused for effect, allowing the gravity of his findings to settle over the visibly baffled press corps.

“These results aren’t just troubling,” he concluded soberly, “they’re downright un-American.”

Ivermectin: The Minty Fresh Solution

According to Kennedy, ivermectin not only combats parasites but also “liberates the mind from mainstream media indoctrination.” He cited anecdotal evidence from his cousin’s roommate’s uncle, who reportedly began questioning authority after a week of brushing with horse dewormer.

When asked about the safety of ingesting ivermectin daily, Kennedy responded confidently, “If it’s good enough for a horse, it’s good enough for the American people.”

Kennedy further illustrated his point by enthusiastically displaying before-and-after photos of horses, dogs, and one confused-looking alpaca.

“Notice the sparkle,” Kennedy pointed out, tapping aggressively on the teeth of a chestnut mare named Lady Liberty. “Not just dental sparkle, but a sparkle of awakened consciousness. These animals have stopped mindlessly trusting veterinarians and started independently researching nutrition on Facebook.” Kennedy concluded the demonstration with an emphatic gesture, “Imagine what it can do for voters!”

A Mixed Bag of Plaque and Patriotism

The announcement immediately sparked a flurry of reactions across the dental and ideological spectrum, as Americans struggled to reconcile oral hygiene with political conviction.

Dr. Linda Molars, an Ohio dentist, expressed grave concern at Kennedy’s proposal.

“Replacing fluoride with ivermectin is like replacing your seatbelt with a prayer,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Sure, it might feel like you’re taking charge, but physics—and plaque—just don’t care.”

On the other side of the toothbrush aisle, Bubba Thompson, a self-proclaimed “freedom enthusiast” and moderator of the Facebook group Patriotic Teeth Brigade, praised the initiative as a long-overdue advancement in oral liberation.

“I’ve been brushing exclusively with ivermectin paste for years now,” Thompson announced proudly, flashing a smile missing several prominent incisors. “Sure, I lost a few teeth, but that’s just my mouth’s way of shedding the chains of tyranny.”

Meanwhile, retiree Mabel Franks from Pensacola voiced cautious optimism.

“At first, I was skeptical,” Franks said thoughtfully, “but Secretary Kennedy’s presentation really resonated with me. If fluoride was what kept my generation obediently watching Walter Cronkite and trusting Neil Armstrong, maybe it’s time to give horse medication a chance.”

Across town, college sophomore Tyler McHale, sporting a “Wake Up, America” T-shirt, enthusiastically endorsed Kennedy’s announcement via TikTok.

“My roommate started brushing with ivermectin last semester. He might have lost his scholarship—and several enamel layers—but he also stopped believing textbooks. Now he only trusts Instagram infographics, and he’s never felt freer.”

As reactions continued to pour in, one thing became increasingly clear: America’s teeth—and perhaps its collective sanity—now hung precariously in the balance.

Big Toothpaste Responds

Major toothpaste manufacturers, caught entirely off guard by Kennedy’s surprise announcement, are now scrambling to adapt. Colgate swiftly announced its new patriotic line, “Colgate Liberty,” boasting aggressively American flavors like “Apple Freedom,” “Patriot Peppermint,” and the slightly ambiguous “Justice Spearmint.” In a hastily arranged press conference, a Colgate executive nervously promised consumers, “Our toothpaste won’t just clean your teeth—it will clean away years of government indoctrination, plaque, and possibly some of your enamel.”

Crest unveiled plans for a competing product: a distinctly patriotic “Red, White, and Blue” striped paste, boldly infused with ivermectin and, according to their marketing team, “a carefully balanced hint of skepticism and rugged individualism.” One promotional banner cheerfully read, “Fight Cavities, Question Reality.”

Meanwhile, smaller, artisanal brands also rushed into the fray, hoping to capitalize on the newfound dental populism. Products like “Freedom Floss,” infused with ivermectin fibers, and “Rebellion Mouthwash,” promising to “rinse away fluoride tyranny,” began appearing on store shelves overnight. Online retailers reported an unprecedented spike in sales of horse medication, prompting Amazon to issue a confusing warning that toothpaste is “generally not intended for equine use.”

Dental associations across the globe, faced with this sudden crisis, desperately issued warnings urging consumers to avoid ingesting veterinary-grade medications. The American Dental Association’s statement read, somewhat despairingly, “We didn’t think we’d ever have to clarify this, but your toothpaste should not neigh, gallop, or cure heartworms.”

Yet Kennedy remains steadfastly committed to his vision, brushing aside professional criticism and gleaming triumphantly through what can only be described as a disconcertingly enthusiastic smile.

“This is about more than dental hygiene,” he proclaimed dramatically, holding aloft a freshly minted tube of Freedom Paste. “It’s about freeing our minds, one brushstroke at a time.”