You know what this
situation needs? A touch of child-like delight, a sprinkling of
imagination, and a little bit of magic. With that in mind, you skip
merrily over to the floor lamp with rubbing on your mind. Granted, you
bought the lamp at Sam's Club a year ago, but why should that prevent it
from being a magical lamp, huh? Even genies have to modernize every now
and then, and it does say "made in Yemen" on the base…
You won't able to get much of a rub on this thing due to your size, but
from what you know about genies, you're guessing that they aren't real
picky about the rubbings that their lamps get. You think about start
doing a nice up-and-down rub along the shaft of the lamp, but something
about that last thought makes you feel weird and uncomfortable, so you
settle on just a single rub all the way around the base. About halfway
around the base, however, the friction becomes so great that your hands
start to blister. Fortunately, the pain in your hands is offset by the
sight of a genie coalescing from the smoke you worked up.
"Lo and behold, mortal!
I am the discount store djinni, and I see that you have freed me from my
lowly brass prison. For this, I shall grant you three wishes, but choose
wisely! The gift of a wish is not something to be taken lightly, nor is
it to be squandered through careless-"
"I wish I was big again!" you shout.
"Very well, it shall be so." The genie claps his hands twice as you turn
your thoughts ahead to resuming your experiments and getting to the
bottom of the alien plot. To your surprise, however, you find that you
are no taller than before, but your waistline has nearly tripled. You
can make no sense of it until you spot the genie quietly chuckling at
his handiwork. Now it all makes sense: you said you wanted to be "big
again," and so he gave you back the weight you had in high school.
Funny. Perhaps your final wish will involve a certain genie getting
crammed in a septic tank full of night crawlers and fire ants.
"Alright then, I wish I were taller."
"Granted," he declares, clapping his hands once again. When your view
shifts upwards by about two inches, you understand your error. Well, one
last shot at this. Still, you're confident that you have it nailed with
this last wish:
"Dammit, I wish I were normal-sized!"
The genie smiles and rolls his eyes. Two claps later, you see that you
are indeed normal sized. A normal-sized beagle!
You've now decided that
you hate genies. Well at least things can't get any worse, you think
reassuringly. However, curiosity draws your colorblind eyes to your new
crotch, and you see that things are even worse than you thought. You
wanted to fix yourself, but this is certainly not what you meant.
