Tricky little buggers, genies.
We recently had an unfortunate incident with a dodgy djinn right here in the Frankenlab when Igor returned from his summer holiday to Morocco. It was there that our lumpy adventurer inadvertently picked up a supernatural stowaway whilst browsing for bargains in the dusty backstreets of old Marrakesh.
Ironically it turns out it wasn’t the 1000 year-old mystic amulet he bought that caused the bother, but rather the innocent-looking bottle of anti-diarrhea tablets that he procured from the dodgy chemist shop round the corner. Who’d have guessed that modern genies prefer the mod cons of mass-produced plastics and child-proof safety caps to ancient tin lamps eh?
Needless to say that the almighty case of ‘traveller’s tummy’ that the grumpy genie inflicted on poor Igor when he tried to stow the bottle in the Frankenlab’s medicine cabinet was truly not of this world! Put it this way, if I’d have had three wishes that day, they would have been for air freshener, ear plugs and a month’s supply of toilet tissue.
Still, a dose of the ‘green apple splatters’ seems positively lacklustre compared to the genie-related grief doled out in the following Frankenstory by Roslyn and Baxter…
Once upon a time, I tripped over a small lamp in the middle of the road. It was quite grubby, so I wiped it clean. To my great surprise, a genie popped out and said, “You have three wishes! Choose wisely!” Unbeknown to anyone, it was written in the (unwritten) binding genie contract that the wishes were more open to interpretation than literal translation. Oblivious to this, the air became electric with excitement – it was time for wish number one… “I wish I could turn into a cat whenever I wanted” “Done!” “I wish I really did have 9 lives!” “Done!” Ecstatic, I wondered what else to wish for. It was awesome enough being a cat with nine lives, what else!? Delighted with the results of her previous wishes, she tackled her last with a grin. “I wish that I’ll be this happy for the rest of my life!” “Granted” said the genie, slowly pulling out a gun. And she was.
(See the original story here)
Mein Gott, I guess they really rubbed him up the wrong way!
Mystically yours,