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Granted. You get an elephant in flames and on the verge of exploding in about 2secon-
I wish I was a (9)!
Granted! An evil osteo-pedodurian-student helps twist you inexpertly into that shape and slaps on two large curved plastic sheets to your side. I hope you like pain and being only able to hop around thereafter.
I wish for a pencil sharpener.
Granted! But it’s an enchanted pencil sharpener and it sharpens the pencil, along with the hand that held the pencil…
…
Gruesome.
I wish for a BIG BUTCHER KNIFE.
Granted.
*Starts running like a psychopath right at David with a BIG BUTCHER KNIFE*
I wish for a computer to wish for.
Granted, but it was a gigantic cardboard mansion and fell on you when you reached the second floor. It was humongous too so the added weight eventually kept you from breathing.
I wish for world torture.
Granted…umm uhhh, wow I think this wish was corrupted in itself o.o
Anways you get the water torture…with no bathroom breaksI wish for an uncorrupted wish
Granted. You get your good wish but a random anvil falls from the sky and splatters you. You magically hear an XBox achievement sound and somebody yells, “YES! SPLATTER HUMAN ACHIEVED!”
I wish for hell to break loose in the world.(Try corrupting THAT!)
Granted. Hell breaks loose in the world. For 1/2000th of a second. Before dragging you back to hell with them for ETERNAL SHUFFERING!
I wish that my laptop could support Japanese.
Granted. Somebody bugged your computer a few days earlier and it asploded; your parents won’t get you a new one and you haven’t the resources needed to get a new one. You cry yourself to sleep for the next twenty weeks.
I wish for an uncorrupted wish that got corrupted but was uncorrupted.
Granted. It causes a logical paradox that collapses in on itself, crushing your ribcage and arms and destroying most of your face and trachea. Now you not only make small children cry, but you have to carry around a respirator or die. Eventually you fall onto your face and your respirator crushes you agonizingly. You die in a puddle of your own blood.
I wish to die by being torn to pieces by a large group of female scientists.
Granted. But first, they make you a subject for me to practice vasectomy on.
“Scalpel.”
“Drill.”
“Chainsaw.”
“Dammit, drill again. This hip bone is giving me problems.”
“Someone mix me a vodka and coke, I’m starting to lose that buzz.”
I wish for a vodka and coke.
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