Wishes, Gravy and Madness
Xamfir paced back and forth in his little apartment. He had put his clothes back on, at the wishmistress’ request. She stood on the bed, staring down at Xamfir as he paced, in deep thought.
“I’ll call you Jeannie. That’s a very sexy name.”
“That’s what you’ve been thinking about for the last hour? I thought you were trying to come up with three wishes I will grant you which, in an ironic twist, also bring horrible, unspeakable tragedies to balance out the scales.”
“Umkay. Anyway,” Xamfir kneeled down under the bed and pulled out a shoebox. Inside, was a scrolled up piece of paper. So thick, it could have passed as a roll of double-ply toilet paper. Oh wait. That IS a roll of toilet paper.
“I need to go make a number 2,” Xamfir said before running into the bathroom.
Jeannie rolled her eyes. “Of all the people in all the world to buy the little tea pot, why did HE have to buy it?
[Sarah's house.]
“I’m your sister,” the girl outside the front door said.
“Oh, OK,” Sarah said.
Styles and Kay Fabe nodded in agreement, as if that announcement made total sense. And it did! After all, THEY’RE SISTERS! Sisters know that sort of stuff.
“We were gonna go to the mall to help Kay try on referee shirts for her gravy and potato bowl match. Wanna come with?”
“No, I’m good here. Got tons of unpacking to do.” She stepped aside to reveal an orange and white U-Haul truck in the driveway.
“Kay Fabe says there’s no way to get our car out of the driveway with that truck in the way.”
“Pardon, me, but, um, you HAVE a car?”
They all looked at the driveway. No car there.
“Well, that was completely pointless,” Styles said flatly.
“Do you want Kay Fabe to lay the carpet down? Do you want to go ONE, on, ONE, with the LESBIAN!”
“Settle down Beavis,” Butt-Head said from somewhere.
Everyone laughed.
“Thanks Butt-Head.”
“Huh-huh-huh, huh-huh-huh,” was the reply from nowhere in particular.
[At a hospital.]
“This is a rather, tricky and experimental treatment. Are you sure you’re up to it?” a doctor asked a patient.
“Bloody right I’m sure,” the man answered. He was laying down on a metal table in a doctor’s office. All we could see was his peroxide colored hair. Take a guess who it is.
“OK,” the doctor said a bit nervously. “If you’re sure this will help.”
The doctor went over to his tray of tools. His hand passed over a pair of scissors, knives, scalpels, a hammer, a screwdriver, dental floss, duct tape and eventually came to a little vial with a bunch of little moving black objects inside.
“I want this CHIP outta my brain doc. Then I can truly be evil. Completely evil. Evilly evil. Ya dig?”
“All accept the ‘ya dig’ part, yes.” Carefully, the doctor inserted a straw into the vial with the little black objects. He then walked back over to the mysterious person with a chip in his brain.
“This may tickle a little bit.”
The doctor stuck the straw up his nose.
“Pretend you’re snorting some coke.”
“What?” the blonde-haired patient asked.
“Oh, sorry. I thought everyone hadnevermind. Um. Just inhale deeply.”
He did.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
[Back at Xamfir's.]
“Okay,” Xamfir said, finally ready to get down to business.
He took out a green three-ring binder filled with paper. You could even say overfilled. On the front cover, it said THINGS TO WISH FOR IN CASE I FIND A GENIE IN A BOTTLE.
“Wish number one. I wish you to only do MY bidding.”
“D’oh!” was her response.
“Number two. I wish you to be my sex slave!”
“Oh man,” she sighed. “Why did I let Mom convince me this was a good career choice. I’m ever so screwed.”
“Not yet you aren’t,” Xamfir said with a grin. “Kissing my virginity goodbye! And for my third and *ahem* FINAL *titter* wish *snort* I wish for INFINITE WISHES!”
“Oh my God. This is SO unfair. Of all the people to get, I get a guy who has been planning his whole life to find a genie in a bottle.”
“Well, that’s a good enough start. Now” Xamfir raised his eyebrows and took off his shirt. Revealing his nice big belly.
Jeannie shook her head. Robot-like, she answered her call. “Yes master. May I have sex with you now?”
“OH WAIT!” Xamfir belted out. “Before we have hot monkey sex, there are a couple things I want to wish for.”
“Yes master?”
“I wish I will win the world’s smallest battle royal at A Chance Would Be A Fine Thing.”
“Done,” Jeannie said.
“And, I wish that A Chance Would Be A Fine Thing would be posted on the BOB site by the end of the week.”
Jeannie laughed hysterically.
[Back at Sarah's house.]
“So your name is Dusk huh?” Kay asked.
“Yep,” Dusk, Sarah’s sister answered. She’s her sister ya know?
“There are two things that go down every night. One is the sun. The other is”
“KAY!” Sarah yelled.
“Exactly!” Kay answered.
“Don’t hit on my sister! She’s only…um”
“Sixteen! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS FORGET MY BIRTHDAY! I HATE YOU! WHY DO YOU PEOPLE HATE ME SO MUCH!”
“We don’t even know you,” Styles said.
“Oh, right. Guess I’m jumping ahead a bit. My bad.”
“It’s OK,” Sarah said hugging her sister. Dusk.
“Well,” Kay said. “I’m going to cook dinner. Want to help me Dusk?”
“Um, OK?”
“Fantastic,” Kay smiled. “Let’s go to the kitchen.” Kay grabbed Dusk’s hand and started leading her away. “Now, so you don’t get anything on your shirt, maybe you should take it off.”
“No, thanks, that’s OK,” Dusk said nervously.
“Well, OK,” Kay said.
Once they were out of the room, it should’ve been time to gossip about the new arrival. But instead
The front door OPENED. Slowly. So slowly that Sarah and Styles consulted their watches a couple of times and sighed a combined five times. Just waiting. Sarah wasn’t in the mood for drama so she walked over and opened it.
Little Good was on the front steps, his head in his hands. He began ranting and raving.
“I have seen the bloody future,” he said rocking back and forth. “Bodies falling. Upsets. Tossers. Mass chaos. Power struggles. Basketballs. Title changes. Lies. Deceit. Pain. Agony. Cheering crowds. Riots. Bugger! Slam dunks!”
VERY SCARY MUSIC SUDDENLY CAME ON.
Little Good looked up at Sarah and Styles, eyes filled with terror.
He pointed up. “From sixty-four,” he then pointed down, “down to one.”
He then tipped over and rolled up into a ball.
“Well, he’s quite mad,” Styles said.
TO BE CONTINUED