|
I wish that I had telepathy that nobody ever knows about, and that I can switch off at any time, with the caveat that I only read surface thoughts.
Granted - unfortunately, the first time you use this ability, you read the surface thoughts of a disguised alien, visitng the planet in secret as a diplomat with the full knowledge of the U.S. Governement. The alien diplomat and his world see the gross violation of his mind as a terrible crime. Since nobody knows your identity, or that you have this ability, the aliens come to believe in a vast plot coordinated by all human governments. The aliens invade the planet, laying waste to our cities, killing millions, and enslaving the remaining humans for all eternity.
I wish I could homebrew the perfect beer.
I wish that I had telepathy that nobody ever knows about, and that I can switch off at any time, with the caveat that I only read surface thoughts.
You find people's surface thoughts to be so creepy and/or annoying that you turn the ability off for good, and your life doesn't change at all, save for a fundamental distrust for mankind.
I wish I wasn't so busy this week.
Contributor, RPG Superstar 2012
|
Granted and granted. Aberzombie brews the perfect beer, but it renders drinkers comatose for a week. Ross samples the beer and he is knocked out. It's not really busy when you're passed out. However, next week will be twice as busy.
I wish I could create a time paradox.
Granted. You cease to exist, and indeed, never existed. The paradox resolves itself.
I wish the people of the world would stop eating meat, and would reduce their intake of junk food, in favour of vegetables and grains, and would stop consuming fossil fuels, relying on alternative energy instead.
RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16
|
I wish the people of the world would stop eating meat, and would reduce their intake of junk food, in favour of vegetables and grains, and would stop consuming fossil fuels, relying on alternative energy instead.
You are the kindliest and most gentle of masters, for you ask only the simplest things for such a humble wretch as myself to provide. Behold, your wish is granted ...
... although you --and all your fellow humans-- no longer have the wit to understand your providence. Your tastes, like your thoughts, are simple now, and as you wander out into what wildernesses you have left upon the Earth, you shall forage for what you can find.
--+--
As for myself, I wish the Paizo staff could peel off and trade facial features, as if they were living Mr. Potato Heads.
|
|
As for myself, I wish the Paizo staff could peel off and trade facial features, as if they were living Mr. Potato Heads.
Granted - the constant swapping of identities leads to a swift and homicidal mental breakdown on the part of all Paizo staff members. They thereafter form a secret society dedicated to eradicating the scourge of identity. They create a genetic plague that causes every human's face to randomly change its appearance. Chaos ensues, with various governments blaming each other. War soon breaks out, and civilization is devestated in a massive world war that soon renders most of the earth uninhabitable. The remaining survivors somehow manage to build a spacecraft and flee the planet, taking their Identity Plague to the stars....
I wish my headache would go away.
Granted. The Queen of Hearts appears and makes good on her threat. Your head is now removed.
I wish I wasn't scared of heights.
You lose all sensible perspective on possible risks, and live a short life before misadventure claims you.
I wish that WotC would apologise for their recent mis-steps.
|
|
I wish I was a better person.
Granted - you become a better person in every way. Your intelligence increases to genius levels, you gain the physical capabilities of the most capable olympic athelete, and you even become handsome. Many people begin to worship you as the perfect human. All other major religions, jealous of your success, unite to wipe you and your followers off the face of the earth - even the scientoligists. World War III erupts, and humanity destroys itself.
I wish I could build a really cool robot.
Granted. the plot of the movie changes. You like the movie more. You like the movie so much that you start a series of Wishmaster conventions. You never know the pleasure of physical contact with another human being. You slowly drift further and deeper into the wishmaster mythos, until your bloated white* body simply stops, bathed in the cool glow of a monitor. Your last post on the Wishmaster forum you moderate is a wish that something like a spilled drink had changed the plot of the movies that you worship, and that you had done something meaningful with your life instead. Other Wishmaster fans barely register your absence.
I wish that the American economy would recover, and that Shai Agassi is heeded, and his electric cars are sold in the U.S.A cheaper than the petrol equivalent.
*pardon the assumption.
|
|
I wish that the American economy would recover, and that Shai Agassi is heeded, and his electric cars are sold in the U.S.A cheaper than the petrol equivalent.
Granted - The American economy, with the help of a high sales volume of Agassi's electric car, is transformed into a wonderous engine of fiscal perfection. All Americans enjoy prosperity such as has never been seen before. This nirvana of monetary exchange soon spreads, encompassing the globe in peace and abundance. The earth becomes a jewel hanging in the heavens.
Sadly, our terrestrial heaven soon comes to the attention of a vicious alien warlord. He sees earth as a treasure trove of wealth, ripe for the picking. Since humanity now lives in peace, we are unprepared for the assault by this extraterrestrial madman and his horde of fanatic soldier/priests. Human civilization as we know it is wiped out. The survivors are enslaved and forced to work under brutal conditions for their other-worldly overlord.
I wish I could decide what race my next D&D character will be.
|
RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16
|
Granted!
"Hey, you know what's weird about that Aberzombie guy?"
"Yeah. He's a zombie."
"No, no. You get used to that after a while, and you learn to keep the strap on your helmet locked on. No, what's weird is, well, you know the way he always plays half-elves, in, like every campaign?"
"Yeah. That was kind of odd in Call of Cthulhu."
"Not to mention your 'Bunnies and Burrows' game! Well, last night, he was rolling up another character, kind of moaned and shouted, 'I take it all back!' to nobody in particular. And then, he rolled up a dwarf."
"Really?!"
"Yeah, but when he was finished, and handed me the sheet to look over, it had somehow turned back into a half-elf."
"All right. That's odd. Even for the walking dead."
--+--+--
I wish that the "Sea Monkeys" I bought from a comic book ad when I as a kid really looked like little sea people, instead of shrimp. And while I'm at it, I wish that all the ads really worked, like X-Ray Specs and stuff.
(What could possibly go wrong?)
|
Granted! (DUN DUN DUUUN)
The "Sea" dwelling creatures you bought still look like shrimp, until you don X-Ray glasses. Then you look at the horrifying truth. They're actually small robots that house a smaller humanoid on the inside. Using the eavesdropping device and the universal language translator, you soon discover that they're an alien race trying to take over the world for their breeding experiments, their plan would spend seventy years to reach completion. This terrible knowledge makes you seem absolutely crazy, you are promptly locked up and watch from a secured window, decades later, how the world comes to an end.
I wish I were a lot more handsome (as I lean towards having a cute/almost-pretty look, actually =/ )
Your wish is granted. You become a paragon of physical beauty and ruggedness. Women want you, and men want to be you. Many men want you as well. Everywhere you go, you are treated differently. People hold the door for you, crush to share an elevator, and linger in the glow you leave behind. You meet a woman who intoxicates you, but when she falls for you, doubts start to plague you. You start to long to be treated for who you are inside you, and not just as a pretty face, but when your mood turns dark, the attraction strangers feel for you intensifies. Almost everyone you encounter falls in love with you. At first you find this troubling, but after a while you start to play with your admirers. You set up competitions, and duels, and watch as people tear and bite each other for the honour of your company. Your every whim is catered to, and your only sensation is the debauch. You find yourself idly committing atrocities, secure in the knowledge that you will be forgiven. Eventually you convince the president to press the button for love of you. Your beauty survives in statues and tatters of tabloid in the ash and serenity of the post-human future.
I wish I had a ping pong ball in my hand.
Granted. The black death is more virulent, and the Mongols carry it from Europe through asia. All iron age societies die, and the human race is stuck in the stone age. The meteor that we would avoid in 2155 catches the surviving South American empires unaware. The dying thoughts of the priests are that the sacrifices weren't enough to appease their dark gods.
I wish my keyboard were clean.
|
|
I wish I had a ping pong ball in my hand.Granted. Except it's not a ping pong ball. It's one of Bahor Arkona's bloodstones, and he's watching everything you do. Especially when you're doing something he'd rather not see.
Eventually the sense of being constantly watched destroys your sanity, and you finish your life in a strait-jacket in a mental institution.I wish for a universe in which weapon technology never advances beyond weapons which rely on gunpowder.
Granted.
The entire world is shifted into Joss Whedon's Firefly. The universe comes to an abrupt end after 13 episodes and a feature film.
I wish to know all the information being held secret by every organization in existence.
|
|
I wish my keyboard were clean.
Granted. A portal opens up, bringing a robot-maid from the distant future with a feverish desire of cleanliness. She starts with your keyboard that's left free even of microorganisms. Then, she heads off for your room, then the rest of your apartment / house. When she decides that not everything's clean, she looks at you. She proceeds to cut you open and clean you until there are no sicknesses nor microorganisms left alive inside of you, which might have resulted in a painful death.
I wish to know all the information being held secret by every organization in existence.
Granted. You become the main secretary of a deadly underground organization. Your fellow secretaries of other organizations fill you in, daily, of every secret within their organizations. From world-domination plots to who is sleeping with whom and what happened in their latest tupperware party. As soon as your boss sees this, you're forced to be in containment and "spilling the beans" of everyone's business, staying awake 24/7 as a source of vital information until you go mad.
I wish... It would be full moon night 24/7.
I wish... It would be full moon night 24/7.
Granted. Werewolves eat you.
I want cookies.
You get dog cookies.
I wish that this wish would result in nothing bad and many good things.
You meet John Wayne. He tries to hit on you. You accidentally kill him in a struggle when he tries to kiss you in an absurd turn of events. You are quickly sentenced to death by an outraged jury of western fans. The lethal injection takes hours too long, and the short time you spend in prison is filled with brutality and petty acts of vengeance.
I wish there would be a good D&D movie.
|
|
I wish there would be a good D&D movie.
A new D&D movie comes out that is so good that it becomes a world-wide blockbuster. It sparks such an interest in the hobby that WotC hastily releases a poorly planned 5th Edition to take advantage of the movie's success.
The rules are so unplayable that D&D collapses as a game. The embarassing failure is so total that RPGs as a whole are seen as a foolish investment, and financial backers withdraw their support from the entire industry.
For the rest of eternity "D&D" becomes nothing more than a slang term for a really kick-@$$ movie.
I wish that my freezer was always stocked with boxes of freshly-baked Thin Mint cookies.
I wish that my freezer was always stocked with boxes of freshly-baked Thin Mint cookies.
Done. The FBI is less than happy with the enslaved Girl Scouts in your basement, though.
I wish weekends were three days long.
|
|
I wish weekends were three days long.
Granted - your boss approaches you one day and tells you there are cut backs and that you will no longer have to work Fridays - with a corresponding decrease in pay.
Several months later, you are approached again about not working Thursday's....then Wednesdays....then all days. You end up jobless and forced onto the streets.
Eventually, you join a new cult/militia, composed of the downtrodden of society. After time, your organization builds up enough power to start a war that destroys human civilization as we know it.
I wish my grocery store here in Philly sold Blue Bell Ice Cream.
Forgotten Prince: I wish my wish would not be granted.
The wish you just expressed is not granted. A subconscious wish of yours is granted instead. Somewhere in your freudian soil is a wish to power. You are granted the dark powers that your shadow self craves. It deletes all that you are, and takes over the shell of your psyche, to wreak havok on an unsuspecting world.
I wish that this thread would be featured on Oprah.
I wish that this thread would be featured on Oprah.
Granted!
The thread is published in a book, 'A Million Little Posts' and you are credited as the author. Oprah makes a huge deal of your moving writing style and puts you on her show. Later it turns out that the thread was a collaborative effort and that you hogged all the glory for yourself. Enraged, Oprah verbally eviscerates you on her show in front of millions of people. You end your days drinking ripple in a cardboard box.
I wish that there was a solar panel paint you could brush on your house that supplied all your electrical needs.
|
|
I wish that there was a solar panel paint you could brush on your house that supplied all your electrical needs.
Granted - Unfortunately, on the first sunny day, the heat generated by the absorbed solar energy also turns your house into something resembling a giant microwave. Everything inside is cooked......everything.
I wish I were a brilliant and successful author.
I wish I were a brilliant and successful author.
Granted!
You find yourself in a dark room in Idaho with a shotgun in your mouth. You feel your finger pull the trigger as you realize that you are Ernest Hemingway.
I wish that my vegetables would grow well this season.
|
|
I wish that my vegetables would grow well this season.
Granted - your vegetables grow at an amazing rate. They are over-sized, healthy, and extremely delicious looking. They are also sentient, and very angry with you for eating their predecessors.
Cue the theme song from Attack of the Killer Tomatoes....
I wish I could invent a really cool device that changes everyone's life for the better.
I wish my grocery store here in Philly sold Blue Bell Ice Cream.
Blue Bell is awesome. That is all.
I wish I could invent a really cool device that changes everyone's life for the better.
You invent something stunning. It is elegant, and it is guaranteed to sell like hot cakes. You are so excited that you tell your best friend about it. He patents it. You claim that it was your invention, and bankrupt yourself in lawsuits. You are remembered in history as the guy who held back the invention that everyone needed, out of greed.
I wish that everyone I know would simultaneously think of a purple puffin, and then forget about it.
|
|
I wish that everyone I know would simultaneously think of a purple puffin, and then forget about it.
The intense psychic focus of belief creates a supernatural purple puffin named, "Pongo". Since you are the only one who recalls his existence, he latches on to you, his one believer.
He pesters you night and day, demanding you to pray to him, and prostheletize, and go on sacred quests. When you balk at his requests, he slaps you in the face with a herring.
I wish to perpetually avoid every misfortune that could theoretically befall me.
|
|
I wish to perpetually avoid every misfortune that could theoretically befall me.
Granted. Pianos crash to the sidewalk just after you walk by, killing the people behind you; cars drive through plate-glass windows of corner coffee shops, the second you turn the corner; your neighbor forecloses, after you get her job; your home falls into a sinkhole, just after you've sold it to a young, new family of four; your old car explodes in a devastating inferno, the morning after you sell it to the old lady down the street; on, and on and on and on and on... Eventually, no-one wants to be near you. No-one wants to even know you. You die pitiful and alone of extreme old age.
I wish I could eat anything I wanted and stay my current weight and in my current good health, with no negative side-effects.
I wish I could eat anything I wanted and stay my current weight and in my current good health, with no negative side-effects.
Granted. Scientists come to your house one day to kidnap you and do horrific experiments on you to determin why you can eat anything.
I wish dragons would reveal themselves again, but not in the Reign of Fire way.
|
|
I wish dragons would reveal themselves again, but not in the Reign of Fire way.
Granted - dragons reveal themselves to the world, having lived in hiding for many years. They offer the wisdom of the ages, and to try and help mankind in any way. Humanity, fearful of these obviously powerful reptilian monsters, and suspicious of why they've been in hiding so long, goes on the attack. The dragons, just wishing to live in harmony, defend themselves. Human civilzation is wiped out, and the survivors are enslaved "for their own good". Our new Dragon Overlords continue on in peace and harmony.
I wish my back didn't hurt so badly.
Granted. You now know every language in the world. Including those of the races that people do not believe exists. When you tell others about these 'new' languages, they believe you are insane and send you to spend the rest of your life in a sanitorium.
I wish life was more like the OOTS version of D&D.
Granted. Belkar stabs everyone to death.
I wish George Lucas had decided not to make the Star Wars "prequels".
|
Contributor, RPG Superstar 2012
|
Granted. George Lucas sells the rights for the prequels to Terry Gilliam instead, who makes the three films.
Apart from a small hardcore who are also Monty Python fans, Star Wars fans commit suicide in their thousands after witnessing Terry Gillaim's surreal tap-dancing, singing, version of Jar Jar Binks.I wish for solar-powered steam locomotion.
(Goodness, a Brazil-like take on Star Wars would be pretty messed up)
Granted. It's an enormous success, global ecology improves, and world's economy strengthens. Then the sun goes out.
I wish vegetables would taste like pie.
Granted. A stroke wipes out your ability to percieve anything except the taste of pie. You spend a subjective eternity doing nothing except wondering what the taste in your mouth is.
I wish the corporation would no longer have the rights of a person.
|
|
I wish the corporation would no longer have the rights of a person.
Granted - an alien warlord descends upon the earth, wiping out the world's militaries, and declaring himself emperor. All humans have their rights stripped from them, and spend their remaining years slaving away in factories to support our new overlord's further war efforts.
I wish I didn't have to drive to this conference today.
|
|
I wish I didn't have to drive to this conference today.
A man with a heavy New York-Italian accent arrives at your door, driving a limousine stocked with assorted beverages, expensive appetizers and women dressed in Princess Leia slave costumes. He explains to you that he will be providing you transportation to your conference, "in style."
Once you are in the vehicle, the women photograph you in several compromising positions, and the driver offers to share the photos with your familiy members and co-workers unless you agree to fulfill certain "obligations". After several years, your criminal lifestyle ends in a prison cell with a large man named, Moose, who thinks you have a "real purty mouth."
I wish I could juggle running chainsaws without injuring myself or bystanders.
Granted, But the running chainsaws do not like being juggled and run away.
I wish Gygax was still alive.