I wish for a single gold piece(about the size of a golf ball) to gently and magically appear in my hand.
It does. But, its sudden appearance in the air causes the atoms in the air around it to begin a fussion reaction. You are incinerated 32 milliseconds after it appears.
I wish they would begin making Firefly episodes again.
Granted. Before you go to sleep one night, you cut of your ear with a +1 Wounding dagger and send in to you lady love. You die from blood loss during the night because you forgot to either make a heal check or cast a cure spell...
I wish for a single gold piece(about the size of a golf ball) to gently and magically appear in my hand.
Granted. However, that gold piece belonged to Hextor, who will now slowly punish you for your theft.
EDIT: Gah, ninja'ed.
Granted. Now Firefly is back, but is now centered on Fluffy, the Giant Space Hamster, and his Giff friend, Tim.
Granted. You turn into a small rock, and a little kid tosses you into a nearby pond.
I wish I could see through walls.
Granted. You now have the ability to smash your head through the wall, with the only requirement being to annoy a big tough person. You do so, but suffer a concussion.
I wish I was dead. (Not for reals! I just want to see what you come up with.)
Granted. loud bang is heard from your bedroom, as you walk toward it, you notice a clown smiling menacingat you, in you peripheral vision. her chokes you to death and has his way with your lifeless body....
I wish I was dead. (Not for reals! I just want to see what you come up with.)
Granted. loud bang is heard from your bedroom, as you walk toward it, you notice a clown smiling menacingat you, in you peripheral vision. her chokes you to death and has his way with your lifeless body....
You didn't twist my wish. I just died, that is what was supposed to have happened. We need twist i.e. I should end up still alive.
I wish I was dead. (Not for reals! I just want to see what you come up with.)
Granted. loud bang is heard from your bedroom, as you walk toward it, you notice a clown smiling menacingat you, in you peripheral vision. her chokes you to death and has his way with your lifeless body....
You didn't twist my wish. I just died, that is what was supposed to have happened. We need twist i.e. I should end up still alive.
Hey now, don't be picky. We can't outright reverse a wish, it's pretty hard. He worked with what he had.
Granted. You can now transform into a pile of molten goo. However, you cannot change back without the proper ingredients, and before you can, a chaos beast finds you and attempts to mate with you.
I'm Poodle Jack Slaad's andDb3's Astral Projection's mom?!
Actually, Db3's AP and I are actually to different version of the same person. When that wish was granted, it brought me in from a timeline where you had willingly married Poodle Jack. Db3's AP is from this timeline, where KC's wish caused you to be his parent. Though how you can be the parent of an astral projection is beyond me...
Wait! I've got it.
I wish to know how you can be the parent of an astral projection!
I'm Poodle Jack Slaad's andDb3's Astral Projection's mom?!
Actually, Db3's AP and I are actually to different version of the same person. When that wish was granted, it brought me in from a timeline where you had willingly married Poodle Jack. Db3's AP is from this timeline, where KC's wish caused you to be his parent. Though how you can be the parent of an astral projection is beyond me...
Wait! I've got it.
I wish to know how you can be the parent of an astral projection!
Granted. However, the knowledge drives you insane, as finding out how Ambrosia Slaad ('you', as you said)can be a mother is more than man was ever meant to know. Or weird slaad-poodle-jack hybrid, for that matter.
Granted. You can flawlessly create the sounds associated with any written word or symbol your eyes fall upon, too bad you have no idea what they mean, though.
I wish for a manic-depressive kitten with opposable thumbs armed with a fusion-powered titanium chainsaw to be released in Upstate New York.
Pocus-cadabra! You are suddenly filled with the visions, training, and life experiences of the world's 50 top dancers. Unfortunately, the upgrade from Tank distracts you long enough for the three approaching Agents to draw their pistols...
I wish that none of my wishing ever creates another Jack or Poodle hybrid. I'm so sorry for whatever future horrors I am about to unleash. Is there a 'Bad-Wishers Anonymous'?
I wish that none of my wishing ever creates another Jack or Poodle hybrid. I'm so sorry for whatever future horrors I am about to unleash. Is there a 'Bad-Wishers Anonymous'?
Granted. But since you only stated that none of your wishing never created another Poodle Jack hybrid, the Jacks believe they cannot be created anymore, and invite the Poodles over to a kegger. Nine months later, there are hundreds of Poodle Jacks swarming the threads and several angry Jacks looking for you.
You already made that wish, and I granted it. Unless you were so horrified you hoped to try again?
Heck, I'll give it another try...
Darkness... and then after a moment, your senses return. Everything seems new and exciting from your new height, and you feel a constant flood of power flowing through you. You attemot to take a step, and... where- where are your legs? Your attempts to move your legs only manages to produce a strange wriggling sensation. And... you realize you are also pinned helplessly above floor... to the wall?
As full awareness rushes back, you feel the power -- 110V AC -- as it surges into your brick of a torso, is converted -- into 12V DC -- and hurtles down your 'spine', through your legs, and out your melded-together feet... into the stupid and forever hungry crappy piece of unremarkable consumer electronics.
I know what you meant, but you wished for a 'small-t' transformer.
I wish: Kobold Cleaver buys a scratch-off lotto card and... it wins!
...Nine months later, there are hundreds of Poodle Jacks swarming the threads and several angry Jacks looking for you.
Ha ha, chaos wins! While the Poodles and Jacks hunt for me, I sneak into their respective threads and distribute to their waiting Poodle Jack & Jack Poodle children: hundreds of copies of DVDs... Barney, Teletubbies, The Wiggles, and a video performance of George Carlin and his "Seven Dirty Words" routine... along with tons of sugar- and caffeine-filled treats!
You already made that wish, and I granted it. Unless you were so horrified you hoped to try again?
Heck, I'll give it another try...
Darkness... and then after a moment, your senses return. Everything seems new and exciting from your new height, and you feel a constant flood of power flowing through you. You attemot to take a step, and... where- where are your legs? Your attempts to move your legs only manages to produce a strange wriggling sensation. And... you realize you are also pinned helplessly above floor... to the wall?
As full awareness rushes back, you feel the power -- 110V AC -- as it surges into your brick of a torso, is converted -- into 12V DC -- and hurtles down your 'spine', through your legs, and out your melded-together feet... into the stupid and forever hungry crappy piece of unremarkable consumer electronics.
I know what you meant, but you wished for a 'small-t' transformer.
I wish: Kobold Cleaver buys a scratch-off lotto card and... it wins!
Granted! KC buys an extradimensional lottery card and wins a case of the 4e Spellplague, which promptly infects reality and twists the universe in ways that make everyone wish they were dead.
Granted! You are pushed forward in time and find yourself on earth after human beings have evolved into supremely beautiful godlike beings. They left the world behind. You're now the only human on a planet ruled by sentient cockroaches that are 12' in height. And they're hungry.
Alright. In a bizzare turn of events, every apocalypse anyone has ever said will happen occurs simultaneously. A meteor decimates Topeka, Loki shows up leading an army of the dead, Cthulu decides to stop hitting the snooze button, and several religious figures are going to Jerusalum. All of humanity ends up dead or otherwise not on this plane of existance.
Except for you. You just turn into a fish. (Hey, have to subvert this somehow).
EDIT: Oh, and your thesis is done. It's been written by a three-year-old hopped up on massive amounts of sugar, but it's done.
I wish people would stop arguing about which edition of D&D is better.
Granted! You are pushed forward in time and find yourself on earth after human beings have evolved into supremely beautiful godlike beings. They left the world behind. You're now the only human on a planet ruled by sentient cockroaches that are 12' in height. And they're hungry.
I wish my thesis was done.
That wasn't a destruction, though, that was an ascension.
Alright. In a bizzare turn of events, every apocalypse anyone has ever said will happen occurs simultaneously. A meteor decimates Topeka, Loki shows up leading an army of the dead, Cthulu decides to stop hitting the snooze button, and several religious figures are going to Jerusalum. All of humanity ends up dead or otherwise not on this plane of existance.
Except for you. You just turn into a fish. (Hey, have to subvert this somehow).
EDIT: Oh, and your thesis is done. It's been written by a three-year-old hopped up on massive amounts of sugar, but it's done.
I wish people would stop arguing about which edition of D&D is better.
Hah. I like this twisting.
BAM! People stop arguing about which edition is better due to a new media format that has just been released. Unfortunately, unknown to anyone for a full year, the media format causes massive mindrot, resulting in a planet of people who can only gossip about celebrities and drool on themselves.
I wish I was omniscient without going mad, being effectively paralyzed, or dying from it.
I wish I was omniscient without going mad, being effectively paralyzed, or dying from it.
PoOoOoOoF! You find yourself on the island of your namesake. With your vast knowledge, you telepathically send blueprints of an improved shortwave radio to the Professor, and sweet dreams of high society and enormous wealth to the Howells. Yes, your experiment proceeds exactly as you predicted it would. With your unerring grasp of all things, it is sometimes difficult to prevent boredom. Hmmm, perhaps today will be the day you finally drop the 'stupid act' and seduce Mary Anne & Ginger. Driving the Skipper insane is always fun too (at least for the first 22 minutes or so).
As you ponder possible improvements on the island (a hatch over there, some kind of unseen yeti/dinosaur/polar bear/monster, maybe some funky temporal displacement, a NBA basketball court... no no no, the last one's just plain silly), someone looking remarkably like a very young Kurt Russell bonks you visciously on the head with a coconut.
... Wha- hey, is that a... Jungle Boy?! Wait'll I tell everyone! Skipper!!!
I wish: That Hungry Jack baking products were never invented. BWAH-HA-HA-HA!
I wish: That Hungry Jack baking products were never invented. BWAH-HA-HA-HA!
Granted - Hungry Jack baking products never exist. The world is a much sadder place because no one can enjoy delicious Hungry Jack® Mashed Potatoes, or Hungry Jack® Pancake & Waffle Mix, or Hungry Jack® Microwavable Syrup. Angered over this lack of yummy food products, a powerful alien race invades Earth, wipes out all major ciites, and enslaves the remainder of humanity.
Your last meal is delicious. What a pity about the strange strain of salmonella that expressed in the roast beef and horseradish. It doesn't look anywhere near as attractive while it spews all over the hospital emergency room, as you stagger, in paroxysms of agony to the counter, where you die screaming, before they have a chance to ask you where you ate.
I wish that Kenyan families would no longer need to set aside one third of their income for bribes, that they would no longer have to pay an average of sixteen bribes a month, and that the corruption in Kenya would come to an end that allows for the maximum happiness for all.
Your last meal is delicious. What a pity about the strange strain of salmonella that expressed in the roast beef and horseradish. It doesn't look anywhere near as attractive while it spews all over the hospital emergency room, as you stagger, in paroxysms of agony to the counter, where you die screaming, before they have a chance to ask you where you ate.
I wish that Kenyan families would no longer need to set aside one third of their income for bribes, that they would no longer have to pay an average of sixteen bribes a month, and that the corruption in Kenya would come to an end that allows for the maximum happiness for all.
I wish that Kenyan families would no longer need to set aside one third of their income for bribes, that they would no longer have to pay an average of sixteen bribes a month, and that the corruption in Kenya would come to an end that allows for the maximum happiness for all.
I've racked my brain -- or what's left after the PoodleJackSlaad horror and becoming a mother twice :) -- trying to twist this wish in a way that doesn't make me feel like a real evil b!++#... and I fail. Sorry.
So, how about something easy, like a bridge to Hawaii or men understanding women?
I wish that Kenyan families would no longer need to set aside one third of their income for bribes, that they would no longer have to pay an average of sixteen bribes a month, and that the corruption in Kenya would come to an end that allows for the maximum happiness for all.
I've racked my brain -- or what's left after the PoodleJackSlaad horror and becoming a mother twice :) -- trying to twist this wish in a way that doesn't make me feel like a real evil b#~~!... and I fail. Sorry.
So, how about something easy, like a bridge to Hawaii or men understanding women?
Meh, I'm a rat-bastard...allow me.
A race of insect-like, alien parasites, fleeing their dying homeworld, invade Kenya. Merging with and taking over each and every citizen, they soon establish a hive mind, and rework the country's society into one resembling their own. Everyone is assmilated, but very happy to be a part of the new collective.
I wish my lawn mower would start mulching grass again.
It turns out dark matter is nothing more than fine, transparent dust. You are appointed the universe's janitor.
I wish Micheal Jackson would come back as a demi-lich, so we can all go adventuring in Never Land trying to swipe his loot.
You put the nasty in nasty pajamas!!!!!!!
Granted. MJ is resurrected as a demilich, he invites everyone int neverland so the can pick gumdrops off of his gumdrop tree, these turn out to be spiked with roofies, knocking everyone out. he locks everyone in his cuddle bunker and fires in de-aging ray at you all, making you become 12 again, then....[censored]
It turns out dark matter is nothing more than fine, transparent dust. You are appointed the universe's janitor.
I wish Micheal Jackson would come back as a demi-lich, so we can all go adventuring in Never Land trying to swipe his loot.
You put the nasty in nasty pajamas!!!!!!!
Granted. MJ is resurrected as a demilich, he invites everyone int neverland so the can pick gumdrops off of his gumdrop tree, these turn out to be spiked with roofies, knocking everyone out. he locks everyone in his cuddle bunker and fires in de-aging ray at you all, making you become 12 again, then....[censored]
I wish whatever I drew came to life
Gra--nah. Way too easy. I'm not even gonna bother.
It does. mis-shapen, agonising and bloody life, alternately vicious and pathetic. Even the letters of words you write, become animate, and mewl and flop piteously in the slime of their own innards. To make it stop, you bite your own fingers off.
I wish that for the year 2010, cars would kill only one person per minute on average, instead of the current two per minute.
It does. mis-shapen, agonising and bloody life, alternately vicious and pathetic. Even the letters of words you write, become animate, and mewl and flop piteously in the slime of their own innards. To make it stop, you bite your own fingers off.
I wish that for the year 2010, cars would kill only one person per minute on average, instead of the current two per minute.
Granted. However, in 2010, the meanings for the terms 'minute' and 'second' are reversed, and so now cars kill 60 people on average every 'second'.
I wish that none of my wishing ever creates another Jack or Poodle hybrid. I'm so sorry for whatever future horrors I am about to unleash. Is there a 'Bad-Wishers Anonymous'?
Granted. But since you only stated that none of your wishing never created another Poodle Jack hybrid, the Jacks believe they cannot be created anymore, and invite the Poodles over to a kegger. Nine months later, there are hundreds of Poodle Jacks swarming the threads and several angry Jacks looking for you.
Nonsensical, because:
A. The Jacks are constructs (or at least some are).
B. Neither the Jacks nor the poodles have more than five females (actually, I'm too lazy to go through and count).
OK, you have perfect memory. Too bad you had to be a big meanie, forcing your brother Data and his buddies to disassemble you.
I wish... that Rust Monsters would eventually evolve an offshoot that turns copper into Cheetos with the touch of their antenna.
Granted. However, the company that makes Cheetos thus goes bankrupt. When the rust monsters start to evolve more, the recipe is lost. The rust monsters evolve so that the Cheetos they make taste bitter, sweet, salty, or sour. The recipe is lost, though, so people can't make any more Cheetos. Plus, of course, everyone is sick of Cheetos (and the people who normally starved in Africa and Asia and South America instead die from too much blood cholesterol, heart complications and obesity).
Alternate: Everyone who hates Cheetos goes on a rust-monster-killing spree, and the entire species is wiped out.
I wish there was a way to make environmentally-friendly energy-storing batteries (i.e. not lithium).
GRANTEDVomit Guy vanishes, leaving behind only a faint odor of bile and his, er, regurgitate. Unfortunately, his technicolor yawn is filled with Vomit Guy spores. More unfortunate, is he got some on you...
You make a quick run for help, but it's too late... your body convulses and jerks. You scream in pain as two new Vomit Things tear themselves free of your carcass.
I wish... I had a nice fresh Turkey Club sandwich and a frosty glass of Belgian beer for lunch.
GRANTEDVomit Guy vanishes, leaving behind only a faint odor of bile and his, er, regurgitate. Unfortunately, his technicolor yawn is filled with Vomit Guy spores. More unfortunate, is he got some on you...
You make a quick run for help, but it's too late... your body convulses and jerks. You scream in pain as two new Vomit Things tear themselves free of your carcass.
I wish... I had a nice fresh Turkey Club sandwich and a frosty glass of Belgian beer for lunch.
You go to Turkey and get a club sandwich. When you try to go to Belgium, however, they arrest you on suspicion of terrorism. As your last request, you ask for the beer. Then they hang you.