The omnipotent genie granting all of these wishes says,
"Tord, I'm afraid I cannot grant you that wish. You see, many a year ago, when I was but a young genie, probably about 41.7 billion years ago, a young, pre-universal child came up to me out of the darkness and wished for longer bangs. The bang was so long and large that I was forced to duck into my lamp and float through space for what felt like an eternity. All I could do was contemplate my life and meditate upon words both spoken to me and that I spoke. I became infuriated that that child was so unspecific about his wish, because it brought about the end of my childhood. You, Tord, with your rather sinister smile and white eye that says purity but screams entropy, remind me of the child that ruined me and destroyed my parents, friends, acquaintances whom I hated, my customers, and my beloved lantern. It was much more comfortable than my lamp. Now, I must smite thee. Come hither, so that I may banish you to the Bald Nebula, in an uncharted section of the universe, so that you will have your precious hair cut from your scalp. Not to mention the high concentrations of chlorine gas and lack of oxygen that will make your life there luxurious. Now, for my final regard before you disembark from this world, my sacred language of omnipotent beings, ¡Adios, amigo!"
Cya later Tord.
I wish I could be this creative in lit class.
