Your wish is granted...

Granted. But your appetite soon gets the best of you, and you haunt Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs and devour their entire stock, after which you explode


I wish I knew who put the dogs out.

Granted. His name is Shem Bicklesworth. He didn't write the famous song, he's just a guy who let his dogs out. And then he gave them treats and tummy rubs, cuz they're good dogs.

I wish SpaceX would sign me up to go on their next mission.

Granted, but the mission is living on a barren asteroid for the rest of your life.

I wish I was best friends with a dragon.

Granted. Meet Jimmy, the Comodo Dragon. I'm sure you guys will hit it off and become BFF's...oooh, yeah he doesn't like to be tickled, and you probably don't want to tease him with fresh, squirming rats, either. Oh boy, that got ugly quickly

I wish I had a real flea circus.

Granted. And you work hard at training your fleas. (They can be recalcitrant, and some are unfit for performance and must be terminated.) At first, things go well. Audiences come to see your flea circus, and you even get a few favorable reviews on some (obscure) websites. But after a while, things begin to change. It seems that a new strain of flea has been introduced into your population--perhaps because of a few promiscuous performers--and these more feral fleas soon escape and spread to all your clothes and bedclothes and of course your dogs and cats and hamsters and, well, everywhere. You now itch and scratch so much that you are forced to abandon the circus and sell what remains to a sidewalk scam artist. But it was fun while it lasted. Wasn't it?

I wish I had a pinto pony.

Granted. And you work hard at training your fleas. (They can be recalcitrant, and some are unfit for performance and must be terminated.) At first, things go well. Audiences come to see your flea circus, and you even get a few favorable reviews on some (obscure) websites. But after a while, things begin to change. It seems that a new strain of flea has been introduced into your population--perhaps because of a few promiscuous performers--and these more feral fleas soon escape and spread to all your clothes and bedclothes and of course your dogs and cats and hamsters and, well, everywhere. You now itch and scratch so much that you are forced to abandon the circus and sell what remains to a sidewalk scam artist. But it was fun while it lasted. Wasn't it?

I wish I had a pinto pony.

Granted. If you leave your new 'My Little Pony (Pinto edition)' in the package, it may be worth a few dollars in about fifty years.

I wish the change of seasons automatically came with a new, appropriate wardrobe.

Granted. But, though the wardrobe is appropriate, it is based on styles from the 1970s, so you will be wearing bell-bottoms, tie-dyed tops, satin vests, platform shoes and all the rest. People may stare at you (and snicker), but you'll be dressed for the season.

I wish I could be anywhere I wish just by snapping my fingers.

Granted, but with a warning: please make sure there are decent medical facilities available at your destination, before you *snap* your fingers, as it is going to be very painful and you will want to have the bones set as quickly as possible. And, just a side note, Genie applauds your robust spirit

I wish my car was a Transformer, like in the cartoon and movies.

Unfortunately due to budget cuts your car is replaced a by 3 inch Evil Emperor Zurg doll that yells "Hail Satan". It has 3 transformations, one which is the Zen cat that floats off the ground.

I wish for a small pouch, just under my left armpit where I can keep my spare change.

Granted, and you can keep as much change in your pouch as you like. But change can only be inserted into the pouch, never removed.

I wish for a pair of x-ray glasses.

Granted.

You shouldn't have looked there, really. We are not responsible for your resultant therapy bills (not to mention criminal prosecution). Also, they're kind of hideous.

I wish I was outstanding in my field. Heck, I wish I had a field to be out standing in.

Granted. You are standing in a field, that you now own, but nobody planted it this year and you have no farm equipment.

I wish I had a special pen that could write the scenes that I hear and see in my imagination.

Granted, but it writes in Swahili.

I wish I had more room for shelves.

Granted. You have more room for shelves. You have infinite room for shelves. And you're contractually required to build shelves to fill this infinite space. Failure to do so will be punished with long stays amongst the items on the narrowest shelf.

I wish I had a dog.

Granted. She has three heads, way more teeth than she should (even with three heads), a tendency to bite small children and travelling salesmen in half, and backyard deposits that would put an incontinent hippo to shame. And her name is fluffy.

I wish I’d looked twice before I leapt.

Granted. Assuming you have two eyes, you did look twice. Just simultaneously. Wish again later when you want to look thrice. (Now that's a wish!)

I wish... I wish for... Nothing. What I wished for came to fruition. Therefore, I pay it forward.

Granted.

Soooo…. How long has it been since you’ve seen The Neverending Story? (Even nothing is something, when it’s The Nothing.)

I wish I hadn’t sat so long in that pose.

Granted: You break the pose during a long exposure photoshoot. Angrily the photographer makes you resume the pose while he resumes the planned one hour single exposure shot.

I wish the photographer was paying me more than $15 for this.

Granted: the photographer is paying you $10k for it, but you won't find out until later that the "prop" you're burying is a real corpse. Better hide that $10k before people start coming for it.

I wish for a delicious ice cream sundae.

Granted. Alas, it contains oats, grass hay, and alfalfa and is only delicious to horses.

I wish I had a nice big jug in which to make sun tea.

You receive a nice, big jug. Unfortunately, the sun is very hot. Anything you put in your big jug is immediately turned into plasma.

I want bacon.

Granted: The Genie give you a full-grown Poland China hog, a large stack of hickory chips, a smoker, and a link to a helpful YouTube channel.

I wish I could teleport, safely, to a pleasant place.

Granted: You head to the nearest teleporter service and make your request. Unfortunately the guy running it is a vampire. You re-materialise, safely, in a coffin six feet underground.

I wish to become the proprietor of a successful sweet shop.

Granted: You are the proprietor of an incredibly successful sweet shop. Unfortunately, it is successful due to the fact that it is also a sweatshop. When the local government hears how you are cutting costs, your sweet-sweat-shop is raided and your workers set free. It looks like you are about to do serious jail time, but at least you will have lots of candy cigarettes to trade while there.

I wish I didn't eat all those chips.