Prime Minister Winston Churchill threw his dentures across the War Cabinet Room. It hit the war map squarely on Berlin before bouncing off Churchill's wooden chair.

Hugh Dalton grimaced as the dentures clattered on the stone ground. "If those break, your dental technician will not be happy."

"Don't be ridiculous," Churchill replied brusquely. "Mr. Cudlipp is perfectly accustomed to my habits. He's made me three more replacements."

Churchill paced around the cabinet room. The underground bunkers were built the previous year to host secret war meetings should the city of London become a battlefield. As of now, the underground War Cabinet Room was rarely used. Most meetings, like today's, took place at Admiralty House or Number 10.* But Churchill was confident that he would direct the war from these underground bunkers. Until then, it offered him respite after stressful meetings. The possibility that Hitler would advance on London was more than likely—no, in times like these, it was almost certain. The Allied forces were retreating from Dunkirk. France was succumbing to enemy forces. The Germans were persistent. Dangerous. Powerful. And Britain was standing alone.

Echoing Churchill's thoughts, Dalton said, "I would bet your dentures, Prime Minister, that Britain would be invaded before Chamberlain changed his mind about appeasement." The economist spat out the word. "How in God's name are we supposed to shake hands with Hitler?"

"He sees Britain as weak, and Germany as strong. He doesn't have a vision for an honourable future. But enough of that," Churchill grumbled, expelling his frustration. He lit a cigar and puffed on it. The wrinkles on his forehead lessened. "I will convince him. The reason I brought you here is to ask a question."

Churchill stepped over to the world map. Already peppered with holes from push pins that marked the ever-changing tide of the war, the map had been replaced since Britain declared war yet again against Germany in 1939—just one year ago. How much the world had changed since then.

He removed his cigar from his lips. With a thick index finger, Churchill tapped the northern shores of France, at Dunkirk. "I will see to it that our evacuation brings our young men home. But it means leaving our equipment behind—another loss, as we're running out of resources. However, you agree that it's best to leave France alone."

"Seeing as it'll become a puppet state, yes. We won't benefit from negotiating, lest Hitler sees an opportunity to bribe us."

"In that case, we do not have any allies to support us financially. I am glad you are on my side, Dalton. As an economist, my resolve may seem egotistical to you."

Churchill's lisp made the 's' sounds in his words land softly, as if on a cushion. It contrasted with the tight furrow of his brows, though his eyes were friendly as he regarded his fellow cabinet member.

"No more knowledgeable than yourself," Dalton responded. After all, Churchill had been the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

"Good. Good! Then tell me: Let us assume this war lasts longer than Chamberlain claims, so for at least another year: How will we afford our battle? Where will we get our munitions, our food, our medics?"

Dalton considered. "The United States is our best and only choice. But we will have to draw her out from her isolationist corner."

Unbeknownst to Dalton, Churchill had already asked President Roosevelt for aid. But the dire turns of the war confirmed Churchill's fears—and strengthened his resolve.

The two men went quiet.

Churchill sank heavily on his wooden chair. The tables were arranged such that most of the room faced him. Just like in Admiralty House, or any meeting for that matter, it was a battle of wills, rather than subordinates listening to their leader. He gripped his armrest. His signet ring dug into the wood. With one hand, he tapped out his cigar and tossed it in the fire bucket behind his chair. On the ground, his metal dentures glinted. Churchill grunted as he reached to pick them up.

"If I may ask," Dalton ventured, "why do you still have a lisp when wearing your dentures?"

"It has been made for that exact purpose," Churchill answered. He held up his custom-made dentures. "I will need every weapon in my arsenal if I am to convince Chamberlain, and the world, that Britain will emerge victorious from this war."

Winston Churchill kept his lisp using his dentures (which he indeed threw around—that's when you know the war isn't going well), and it makes quite the impact in his speeches. Also, as London was bombed by Germany, his wooden chair had gouges on the arm rest made by gripping it so hard in stressful underground meetings (he wore rings). The underground war bunkers in general are fascinating. Fun fact: The root of this story came from an article about Churchill's dentures being auctioned for ~$24,000 US. Link is in the comments -->