Dan Wastes a Genie’s Power

By George Pippin

Dan wasn’t really a lucky guy.  He bought scratch-off tickets twice a week for three years and never won a single dollar.  Since his electric bill kept getting lost in the mail, the lights were off in his apartment and he was always stubbing his toes while he fumbled around in the dark.  He couldn’t put gas in his car without spilling some of it on his jeans; usually only hours after he’d washed them.  However, the thing about Dan was that as unlucky as he was, he was twice as stupid, I mean, this guy was a complete moron.  Honestly, you’d have to see it to believe it.  If you don’t believe me, well, I’ll just give you Dan’s number and you can call him.  What?  No, I don’t have it on me… anyway, one day, Dan’s luck changed.

While on a scenic drive in the woods of Southwestern Vermont, Dan’s car overheated and stalled on the side of the road, surrounded by a very quiet and very under-populated wood.  Since his cell phone didn’t have any service, Dan decided he would just make the best of the unfortunate circumstance and go for a nice hike.  He hiked for nearly 36 hours, on through the night, walking into tree branches in the pitch-black forest.  He made two key navigational errors.  The first was deciding that he would walk away from the North Star, which was a poor decision since the forest was just south of a quaint village full of warm beds and homespun philosophies.  The second was that he wasn’t, in fact, walking away from the North Star.  Rather, he had mistaken the distant glow of his own headlights, which he’d stupidly left on, for the North Star.  Coincidentally, his car was parked at the North edge of the woods, within a quarter mile of that quaint little village Dan would never see.

But perhaps Dan’s trip was serendipitous, for as he stumbled through the forest, the quickening dawn giving light to his path, he happened upon a lamp, whose time-worn golden sheen contrasted just enough with the surrounding earth and moss to catch his eye as he passed.  Remembering old stories about Genies, Dan rubbed the lamp and was surprised when smoke began to billow from its spout.  Within seconds, the smoke had formed into the shape of a man, towering above Dan’s small frame, wispy at his edges where the wind caught traces of the cloudy form.

“Hello, Dan, you have freed me from my lamp, and for your actions you shall be granted three wishes.”  When the genie spoke, his voice boomed, causing the very trees around him to bend away like shameful parishioners.  Dan could hardly believe the luck he was having.

“You’re really going to grant me three wishes?” Dan asked.

“Yes, Dan,” the genie replied, “this is your prize for releasing me from my resting place.  Souls both fair and cruel have found themselves blessed by the providence of my will over these long centuries.  Still, many generations have passed since I have last been able to stretch these mighty arms, and you, Dan, you shall be rewa…”

“I want you to fart on my head.”  Dan said.

The genie blinked slowly.  “What?”

“I mean, uh, I wish you would fart on my head!”

Still hesitant, the genie asked, “Are you for real?  I’m all powerful and you’re asking me to do something you could probably get a homeless guy to do for you for five bucks, or a hot bowl of Campbell’s.”

“I have never been farted on by a genie before, so yeah, I’m serious!” Dan exclaimed.

The genie, bound to Dan’s wish, farted on his head.  The grass around Dan withered up and died, curling into dry husks around his feet.  People as far away as Boston looked at their neighbors on the bus or in the elevator and thought I can’t believe this numbnuts farted in public.  God, it smells like his ass erupted.

Dan seemed happy.  “Whoa, man, that was fucking ripe!”  He did a little dance in the dead grass and pumped his fist in the air, leaving the pinky and forefinger extended like horns.  “Wait ‘til I tell everybody a genie fuckin’ poofed on me!”

The genie was a little disgusted, which was strange considering he’d seen wars, famine, two different plagues, and been inside the self-reported ugliest woman in Krakow after she’d wished for “one last good time, before the tapeworm took her.”  So, for the sake of swiftness, he asked Dan what his second wish would be.  Dan thought about this for a moment, and then said, “I wish my girlfriend’s name was Mr. BigWig.”  Mr. BigWig was a stuffed animal that Dan used to play with when he was younger.

Perhaps it was his overactive sense of curiosity or the fact that he hadn’t spoken to another soul since Lincoln was assassinated, but against his better judgment, the genie asked, “Um… why on Earth would you want your girlfriend’s name to be Mr. BigWig?”

“Because it’s an awesome name, duh.”  Dan said, and then scratched his butt.

“Well, do you mind if I ask what her name is now?”

“Oh, it’s Jennifer.”

The genie replied, “Well, I for one think that’s a beautiful name.  I mean, do you really want to change such a beautiful name?”  The genie had never tried to talk anyone out of a wish before.  Dan just made a scoffing sound and waved his hand at the genie, signaling him to get on with it.  So he did, and all at once, every aspect of Dan’s girlfriend’s life that was once attached to the name ‘Jennifer,’ past, present, and future, was now attached to the name ‘Mr. BigWig.’  Far away, in the South Carolina town where ex-Jennifer’s parents lived, her mother awoke in bed wondering why in the living hell she gave her beautiful daughter such a ridiculously horrid name.

The Genie sighed and said, “There, it’s done.  What do you want for your final wish?”

“Awesome!” Dan shouted, and twirled around with his arms out like a pinwheel.  After about 10 minutes, the genie got really frustrated and shouted at Dan to stop.  But he wouldn’t stop.  Not until he was ready.

When he was ready, Dan said, “My family is never going to believe that I met a genie.”

“So,” the genie said, “you want me to take you to them and introduce myself?”

“No,” Dan replied, “I want you to bring them here.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea, Dan?  I mean, to be this far into the woods, you’re probably pretty lost.  Why would you want to get your family involved?”

“Look, genie, I wish my family were here!” Dan shouted.

The genie sighed and said, “Whatever, Dan.”  And with that, Dan’s parents and his older brother appeared in the woods.  Much to the genie’s surprise, however, they were all wearing hospital gowns, and they barely had a full set of limbs between then.  Burns seemed to be covering most of their bodies.  They had actually been in what the Minneapolis Star Tribune had called “The most gruesome hot air balloon accident in Minnesota’s history.”  In the hospital, they had been on life support with respirators breathing for them, so within moments they died on the forest floor.

“Guys, this is a genie!  A real live fucking genie!  Guys?  Guys?” Dan said, shaking his almost unrecognizable dead brother.  When he looked up, the genie had gone back in his lamp.  Dan tried to rub it again, but it simply didn’t work that way.  He began to walk in long circles around the woods, but he never panicked.  When authorities found his body in the woods three months later, they said, “God, why does he smell like a genie’s asshole?”