The World's Worst GenieA Story by Scott AndrewsImagine finding a magic lamp, only to discover that the genie inside was horrendously incompetent.
"You are the worst genie ever!"
"What? Why? "I said dessert. Dessert. Not desert," I couldn't believe it. There was I hankering for something sweet and decadent and instead I was in a sweltering desert. "Is there a manager I can speak to? Can I take that wish back?" I could see the hurt on his blue face. "You could always make another wish..." "And trust you to get it right? No chance. If I'd ask you for a million pounds that will probably be what I end up weighing," the sarcasm in my voice stung the genie so much that he went back inside of his lamp. "Thank god for that," I muttered as I tried to get my bearings. All I could see was sand and sunshine. It was if I had ended up on the worst package holiday ever. It felt like days but it probably had only been a few hours. I had tried to pick a direction and stick to it but it seemed impossible given that everything looked the same. My throat was drier than a camel's sense of humour. I could feel the sunburn taking effect. There was only one thing I could do it if I didn't want to die on a sand dune. I rubbed the lamp three times and nothing happened. "Genie, I've summoned you," I said aloud, feeling foolish. "Genie!" "There's no genie here," said a voice from inside the lamp, "I've retired." "I'm sorry about being short-tempered with you. Come out. I'm dying out here." "There was a puff of smoke and suddenly I was face-to-face with my incompetent genie. Looking back I wish I would have asked him why he was a blue. Maybe he was going to a fancy dress party as a smurf. He hovered in the air in front of me, his arms folded and his brow as creased as an origami hippopotamus. "I am the genie of the lamp, I grant..." "Yes, yes, we've done that already," I interrupted. I could feel the blisters on my skin. "Fine," said the Genie, "What do you want then?" "I want to go home." "But I thought I was the worst genie ever." He had me there. As angry as I had been, I felt as if my entire body was melting. "I'm sorry for saying that, I didn't mean it." He smiled at me, his mouth the size of half a watermelon. "Ok then. Now what was it you wanted?" "I want to go home," I replied, trying to hide the tired frustration in my voice. "Say it properly," said the Genie, clearly enjoying teasing me in my sunburned state. "I wish was at home," I replied defiantly. I should have know really. A genie that had already made quite a serious blunder. I really should have known. "Oh for goodness sake!" I shouted when I realised that I had a long, grey beard. There was a pond in front of me. I looked at my reflection and saw a tiny man looking back at me, with a pointy red hat. "Genie," I cried, "I said I wish I was at home, not I wish I was a gnome!"
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StatsAuthorScott AndrewsUnited KingdomAboutWriter, Novelist, One third of the synth pop band YU, Dog Nerd on the Talk2thePaw podcast. more..Writing
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