Wednesday, May 19, 2010

One of Three

The genie rubbed his luminescent forehead. “This job hasn’t been fun for two millennia, at least.”

“I’m still waiting,” Joe smirked.

“Modern humans are a bunch of smartasses,” the genie growled. His blue-glowing skin gained a faint crimson tint.

“You’re stalling,” said Joe.

“You’re lucky I don’t turn you into a newt. My people used to be gods, you know. You worshipped us. Up until that prick Solomon went whining to YHWH.”

“Just grant the wish.”

“Say it again, more slowly?”

Joe cleared his throat. “I wish that this wish will not be granted.”

“I hate you,” said the genie.


Jim Murdoch said...

Isn't that a bit like the question they used to feed into computers to make them blow up?

Scattercat said...

Works on sphinxes, too.