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I wish that the historian Peter Watson would make a high quality documentary series with the BBC, about the history of ideas.
Granted. It's horribly boring.
I wish I could write songs like Richard Shindell.
I wish I could write songs like Richard Shindell.
Granted: Richard Shindell is a 4th grade elementary student in The Dells, Wisconsin. His musical ability is very parochial. As, yours now is.
I wish I understood how the hippocampus works.
I wish I understood how the hippocampus works.
GRANTED.
"No, this really isn't necessary-"
"Hush. This is a routine procedure. Are the straps too tight?"
"Actually, yes-"
"It was retorical." The young woman in the mostly-latex nurse uniform finishes adjusting the straps holding NP to the metal chair, then slinks over to a makeshift control panel. Across the room, an angry-looking poodle wearing a French beret glowers silently next to a metal table. The table remains covered under a sheet with only a small lump disturbing the otherwise smooth surface.
"No, really, I was just curious. You don't need to go to all-"
"I told you to 'Hush.' Don't make me get strict with you." The nurse(?) looks to the poodle, who nods silently.
"NOOOOOOOO-"
NP feels a rush of energy through his body as it is broken into its constituent waveforms and transported...
Darkness. NP wakes up with a rush and immediately begins gasping. He can't breathe! The sheet is removed, and he spys colossal versions of the Poodle and Nurse standing over him. The poodle picks him up gently in his mouth and carries him over to a far corner where he is plopped uncermoniously into a large fishbowl.
Suddenly, he can breathe again! But his joy is suddenly squelched when he glances down to discover he is... a seahorse?!
The nurse glances toward the poodle and smiles. "Now he'll understand how a hippocampus works... first hand!"
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I wish... Frostie Root Beer was still sold where I live.
I wish I understood how the hippocampus works.
GRANTED.
My guess he meant >this hippocampus< .
But, he never did specify.
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I wish... Frostie Root Beer was still sold where I live.
Granted. Go to you local Walmart.
I wish I had real life "HEAL" spell.
My guess he meant >this hippocampus< But, he never did specify.
Oh I figured that, but giving him what he wanted isn't as much fun.
.I wish... Frostie Root Beer was still sold where I live.Granted. Go to you local Walmart.
Really? I haven't been in there since before Christmas. But to get to the root beer and checkout, I have to walk past the ice cream twice. Nope, can't risk it.
I wish I had real life "HEAL" spell.
You find yourself suffused with divine power. You can prepare spells as a cleric.
All you need is your symbol of lamashtu.
YOur dark goddess has needs. You slake her thirsts with the blood of your victims.
It takes four swat teams to take you down.
I wish China would allow Taiwan to declare independence, and become an ally.
It takes four swat teams to take you down.
If I had a nickle for every time someone told me it would take multiple swat teams to take me down, I could buy Ambrosia Slaad a frostie root beer.
I wish China would allow Taiwan to declare independence, and become an ally.
And that is why we can't have nice things.
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I wish I had real life "HEAL" spell.You find yourself suffused with divine power. You can prepare spells as a cleric.
All you need is your symbol of lamashtu.
YOur dark goddess has needs. You slake her thirsts with the blood of your victims.
It takes four swat teams to take you down.
I wish China would allow Taiwan to declare independence, and become an ally.
GRANTED
Taiwan becomes an ally of America and floods our shores wih so much worthless crap that we must buy that our economy is destroyed EVEN more and Paizo is now out of business.
I wish for a pony.
Granted. You are now the proud(?) room-mate of Sebastion.I wish for a pumpkin pie.Granted.
You spontaneously develop a lethal allergic reaction to pumpkin spice and die.
I wish that, while maintaining my present physical form and features, that I were immortal.
You're looking young for someone 8 million years old, and your body is just as it was in 2009. However, the last 8 million years of agony seem like a pleasant dream compared to the eternity you will spend wracked by constant, excruciating, total-body pain.
I wish that no more animals would suffer for human pleasure.
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I wish that no more animals would suffer for human pleasure.
Granted! A high level druid working for PETA roams the world, casting Awaken. In very short order, the animals end the 'human problem' once and for all and live happily ever after in their nice warm human jackets.
I wish stupidity was immediately painful to those who try to inflict upon me.
I wish stupidity was immediately painful to those who try to inflict upon me.
You are instead tormented by the wretchedness of their screams of agony. It won't stop, it'll never stop...
I wish for a ka'kari.
I wish for a ka'kari.
Granted!
You are given the Silver Ka'Kari but somehow contract acute apppendicitis when it bonds with you. Owing to your newfound immunity to blades, you are going to have a heck of a time trying to find someone to operate on it successfully.I wish for someone to alter time, speed up the harvest or teleport me off this rock.
I wish I could have a 6 pack of the most perfect beer ever made.
Granted. You drink the first one, and it tastes so good tears roll down your cheek. Your body fills with warmth, and all tension leaves you. You begin to giggle with the joy of it.
You drink the next, and it is like heaven on earth, but only for you.With the next, you know the meaning of enlightened existence. No pain, no doubt, no anxiety, no fear. You are legend.
With the next two, your buzz is orgasmic perfection!
You finally slip off in blissful slumber as the last empty one rolls from your hand.
When you awake, everything you see, smell, touch, eat, and drink will never compare. You will never again find fulfillment. In fact, you can't even drink pure water anymore, because it reminds you of what you can never have again. Everything in comparison to that 6 pack of the most perfect beer ever made tastes like dog-crap. Suicide is your only way out.
I wish I had Gary Teter's job.
I wish for all of my loved ones to be in the same zip code as the one in which I reside.
They visit you.
Every.Single.
DAY.
UNINVITED.
Just waltz right in, never even pausing. Your home is their home. And you dare not say a word for fear of hurting their feelings. After all, you hurt their feelings, they'll make you miserable. And they still won't leave.
I wish I could gain the profits and benefits of working 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week, Monday through Friday, but only actually had to actually work the first four of them each day. And that the process was legitimate.
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I wish I could gain the profits and benefits of working 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week, Monday through Friday, but only actually had to actually work the first four of them each day. And that the process was legitimate.
Granted!
Welcome to the life of a CDC technician working in a level 4 area. You contract a world-killer virus your second day on the job because you weren't around for yesterday's afternoon meeting that discussed the proper handling protocols.
Not only did you kill yourself, but everyone that you ever loved and most of your neighbors, before it was contained.
I wish that I could get away with murder, without feeling any remorse.
I wish that I could get away with murder, without feeling any remorse.
Granted. You murder yourself and no longer feel anything.
I wish I knew the funniest joke ever.
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I wish that I could get away with murder, without feeling any remorse.
Granted. You murder yourself and no longer feel anything.
I wish I knew the funniest joke ever.
Granted!
You stumble across a weaponized version of The Funniest Joke In The World and promptly snuff it.
I wish I could bear, birth and raise a child of my own.
I wish I could bear, birth and raise a child of my own.
I'm not evil enough to twist that one, even in jest.
I'm not evil enough to twist that one, even in jest.
Don't worry Mom, I am.
I wish I could bear, birth and raise a child of my own.
Granted. You are a hermaphrodite.
I wish everyone's skin, eye, and hair color would change to their favorite color for one day every year.
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I wish everyone's skin, eye, and hair color would change to their favorite color for one day every year.
Granted!
The first to experience this is you. An agent with DHS observes the change, and with tinfoil hat zeal takes you down for interrogation as an alien infiltrator. You're waterboarded, brainwashed into believing you ARE an alien infiltrator, and become the world's first victim of the "Earth Defense Act of 2012"
I wish I had full and total control of the timestream without the possibility of editing myself or those I love in a negative manner.
I wish I had full and total control of the timestream without the possibility of editing myself or those I love in a negative manner.
Granted. You play Timeshift, a PS3 game where you wear a suit that can control time.
I wish I didn't have writer's block.
I wish I knew what to wish for.
And with that, the djinn vanished back into it's home. "No, NO! I can do so much; I can fix it all!" The Wisdom, once crystal clear, faded from his mind like sugar on the tip of his tongue. In mere seconds, it was all gone, and now even the memories of making his single wish were rapidly fading.
A heartbeat later, Bill Lumberg was left standing alone in the office, a faint lingering of something exceptional that had slipped through his grasp. Filled with an overwhelming sense of sorrow, he glanced down at the object in his hand: a blood-red Swingline stapler with ancient Persian script delicately etched along the sides. "Wha-?"
Bill's last sentence was cut tragically short as Milton Waddams split his skull with a fireaxe.
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I wish... I had all the time in the world to read with no one able to stop me.
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I wish I knew what to wish for.
** spoiler omitted **
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I wish... I had all the time in the world to read with no one able to stop me.
Granted!
Your life essence is trapped in a bubble of transcendental time, which is devoid of anything to read except a copy of the original script for Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space.
I wish that I had the formula for a fully functional and real philosopher's stone etched into my flesh indelibly, with the skills and resources to craft an infinite number thereof.
I wish that I had the formula for a fully functional and real philosopher's stone etched into my flesh indelibly, with the skills and resources to craft an infinite number thereof.
Word of your unique markings and the capabilities you possess eventually gets out, no matter how hard you try to keep it secret; someone spots you at work, deciphers your tattoos, or breaks your trust to reveal your secret to someone less willing to keep their mouth shut to the world.
Within days you are the most wanted person bar none internationally. Governments, kingdoms, tyrants, terrorists, megacorporations, even a few churches, they all want you and what you can do and many of them are willing to go to any length to get what they want. Your family and friends are targeted. Your only choice is to flee, telling no one you love or care for where you've gone - the knowledge of your whereabouts, the knowledge even that you still live, is dangerous to them. For their own safety, they must not know.
You live alone, forever walking the earth, accompanied only by your skill. You have the Stone of Sages and as long as you keep making it, you will not age or die - technically if you wanted, you could live forever without suffering, aging, or pain. A blissful, eternal existence. But a lonely one, a paranoid one, one without any permanent home. And they're all still looking for you. In time you may decide it's not worth it anymore, and find a way to take your secret with you to the grave.
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I wish magic was real. Yeah I'm a sucker.
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I wish magic was real. Yeah I'm a sucker.
Granted!
The age of Man has come and gone, and it is once again the age of Dragons. One of these majestic beasts thanks you for your aid in returning them to their proper place, keeping you forever nearby on an adamantine chain. Mankind reviles you for your part in their downfall, and only your Draconic protector can keep away the angry mobs.
I wish for a permanent solution to world hunger, that would not result in anyone's death.
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I wish for a permanent solution to world hunger, that would not result in anyone's death.
Granted. A giant mouth opens up in the earth and says it is hungry. People begin to trow food into it. The world no longer hungers. For now...
I wish I could create at will a small ball of light, of intensity varying from soft glow to almost blinding, that follows me around.
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I wish for a permanent solution to world hunger, that would not result in anyone's death.
Granted.
Everyone on Earth is transformed into trees. They gain all sustenance from the sun in the sky and the water in the ground. The trees live in perfect harmony, forever feeding, growing, and existing. Humanity is gone.
I wish I possessed and have total control of all the powers and abilities of Superman.
I wish I possessed and have total control of all the powers and abilities of Superman.
Granted. You are now the owner and head writer of DC Comics. You personally own and have complete creative control over Superman, including his powers. DC goes bankrupt under your mismanagement, and you're now jobless and broke.
I wish for someone else's wish to be granted, as long as it would be something I would agree to.
I wish for someone else's wish to be granted, as long as it would be something I would agree to.
Granted! Someone wishes for a free dinner for two at your favorite restaurant, and they invite you along. It is reather unfortunate that the food wasn't cooked properly and gave you both intestinal parasites.
I wish for a pet dog.
