Your wish is granted...

Granted. You are now a hip-hop dancer, and functions, award ceremonies, sports events are inaugurated with your performance. But since it's a gift and it's the duty of the genius to spread the gift to the world, you're not getting paid for it. It's your duty to entertain since you've been blessed with feet that hip-hop.

I wish I were a Siberian Tiger living in the Russian Forests.

Granted.

Any excuse to send you off to Siberia is fine with the djinn.





I wish I could buy one of those autofeeder things for my cat and not have him gorge himself on it until he puked.

Denied,
You make absolutely no sense which does not surprise me any more. Cats do not eat the same thing auto's do and, in fact, can be pretty finicky anyway. Throwing up is just something cats do to keep you busy an is not related as much to what they eat as much as how much they have cleaned their fur.

I wish I had a whole lot more red cents.

Granted. Three burly movers relocate you immediately in front of your outhouse. (Which still houses an ornery alligator). They seal all the doors, board up the windows and make a nice round hole in your roof. They pump red cents through a tube inserted into the hole til your house is filled with red cents. Hopefully you'll be able to use those red cents to pay for any structural damage.

I wish I could live off of the dust and crud collecting under my desk.

Granted. You are now a dust mite.

I wish Nathan Brazil would return!

Granted.

I'm not going to bother Googling that so I'm just going to bring you Nathan, from Brazil. He's an anaconda. Kinda hungry, too. Might be best to just leave him be.



I wish my cat shed less. And not in clumps. All over the freshly vacuumed carpet.

Granted. Your cat does something else entirely. It's not in clumps. But it's all over the freshly vacuumed carpet, just like you ordered. Eugh!!

I wish I had a lawn tractor.

Granted.

It's upstairs. How you get it down to the lawn is not my problem.



I wish I could exercise in my sleep and awake both refreshed and buff.

Granted. You exercise in your sleep and wake up refreshed and buff. But you don't remember that you've worked out, so you again do the exercise and keep on doing it. Now you're super skinny and all it takes is a little wind to lift you off the ground into the sky.

I wish I were a pokemon.

Granted.

You live your life free, peaceful, and happy, until some kid comes along, traps you in the tiniest habitat ever, and yanks you from your natural surroundings. You're only let out to engage in combat against other creatures, similarly yanked from their homes, all for the twisted amusement of the beings that captured you. If you're "lucky" you'll win enough battles and then be forced to undergo what can only be described as a cataclysmic physical change for the express purpose of fighting creatures more powerful than the ones you fought previously.

All while an insidiously catchy tune plays in the background.



I wish there were more hours in the day. And that I'd use them productively.

Granted.

But we had to steal hours from your closest neighbor, some where near Alpha Centauri.
As our days get longer and longer, theirs get shorter and shorter. But for the people
of earth this has caused some unusual side effects. Some have to mow their lawns
twice in one day, others are excessively happy, but most, who can only sleep in the wee
hours of the night, grumpier ( Dawn of the dead grumpy ).

Unfortunately the Alpha Centauriansans have found the culprit that has pilfered their hours.

*knock knock* ( I wouldn't answer that. )

I wish my office rotated like a round ball and was without gravity,
making it impossible to know which way is up or down.

Granted. Your office is now in a malfunctioning space station without any gravity. Hopefully the air will hold out until rescue comes.
I wish my house would declutter itself.

Denied
The fire marshal is beginning to narrow in on me.



I wish My magic beans would start to grow

Granted.

They only grow after you decide they weren't really magic beans, and therefore you might as well eat them. I'm hoping having a 300ft tall beanstalk rising out of the ruptured remains of your stomach won't be a problem.



I wish I had a TA, because someone needs to grade these papers and it's clearly not going to be me.

Granted ... sorta.

Welcome to the new world of self-grading papers. Nanobots, hidden within the weave of the paper, grade an assignment when it falls into your inbox. Some overzealous nanobots grade as the student is midway through the assignment. A few nanobots get loose and wreak havoc in your gradebook.

I wish I could train my posts to reply to other’s posts.

Denied. Genie's magic doesn't go beyond the rules and restrictions of Post Rights Activists. Just because a post cannot fight back, doesn't mean its immune to pain.

I wish some animal ran faster than the cheetah. I'm tired of cheetahs being the fastest land mammals on Earth. It's high time someone races them. Come on, evolution, get to work.

Granted.

Any number of animals can, actually, out-run a cheetah. Over distance. Heck, we can do it. So like a great many things, it all depends on the yardstick you're using. However, given that you're probably talking about sprinting, I've got some running shoes for you, and an instant ticket to Africa. I promise we'll start you out slow. You just first have to outrun the lions.



I wish I didn't have to go to work tomorrow.

Granted. You don't have to work tomorrow. But since tomorrow changes every midnight, it seems to advance to the next day. Didn't see that. Oh well, now you have to work everyday, even on weekends since tomorrow never comes.

I wish someone would change the color of the moon. I'm tired of seeing white. How about some yellow n some dark green, with orange. Make the top part dark orange then a strip of yellow n then orange. Also could you change the shape. Round is so common. How about a square moon? Yep, a colorful square moon. That's what I wish for, genie.

Granted.

The moon not only is square, and colorful, but it glows and speaks to you. Directly to you. As only you can hear. I wouldn't recommend telling anyone the moon speaks to you, but sadly, you won't be able to help it. However, I'll take pity on you and ensure that your padded cell does contain a small window from which you can continue to see and hear the moon.

Or maybe I'll just spray-paint Porter's backside, put a frame around it, and have him stand outside your window. I'm kind of torn as to which idea I like better, at this point.



I wish I had a coin to flip.

Denied. What makes you think Genie carries change? Frankly, I am offended by that remark. Here, take a fire ball.

I wish zebras would visit some decent paint shop. Retro is so out of fashion. What's with the black and white uniforms they wear everyday? That's my wish. Color the stripes of zebras. Seriously, add some color to their life, genie.

Granted.

Zombie zebras descend upon your neighborhood. You are the last to go, and in your death throes will be greeted with the sight of zebras who are black and white and red.


I wish I didn't have to go back to work tomorrow.

Granted! You're fired!

I wish I knew for sure if these things growing everywhere are currants, gooseberries, or weeds that will take over the world (as they appear to be doing).

Granted.

You already know the answer to that. I'd start running, now. As much good as that's going to do you.




I wish I'd at least get a decent severance package, if they're firing me.

Denied. You're severance package compensates for the items you've stolen from the company. Pen, pencil, print out papers, computer, electricity, water, coffee powder, sugar, cups, water cooler, taps, wires, dust bins, plastic bottles, air conditioned air, flower pots, mud, spirits, desk, floor tiles, more pens, your boss' wig, tissue paper, more pens, ink for pens, pencils, sharpener, more pens, chair cushions, tables, files, more pens, sockets, plugs, internet connection, photo frame, mirrors, bulbs, more pens, stapler, cupboard, half a roof, two pillars, elevator, cafeteria, and more pens.

I wish tortizes would come out of that shell. I mean it's high time. No one's gonna make fun of them. There's a limit to being an introvert.

Denied.

Have you read the latest issue of TMNT? Heartbreaking, man. No more turtles out of their shells.



Incidentally, it's not my fault she left her wig laying about.....





I wish I could start the Easter vacation now, instead of having to work the next three days.