Rick was a bundle of organs with a name. As a "human," he'd reached the hightest plane of existence by having rights and a dead-end 9-to-5 job. Lesser animals would kill for Rick's washboard abs and explosive biceps. If you went to the gym on Monday evenings, you would find Rick there, straining his muscles to ascend to a higher plane of being. There was a pr incess. Oh there was a ghetto chick. There was a hungover rugby player. Yes, the gym was 24 hour fitness. But Rick had a headband, wristbands, mirrored sunglasses and muscle milk shake paunch to be proud of.Rick strutted to the squats machine trying to look musclebound.The chick in the stretchy pink spandex leggings & Mr.Clean T-shirt removed an earplug to The robot in charge of wedging something between her and the coffee. The coffee was trying to free itself from the robot's spidery hand. But there was no escape. It screamed in pain as she felt the connect between the coffee and herself come together. At Last the Caffeine Gods were appeased & with the energy of the caffeine boost she broke her shackles & wrestled the perp into the machine's inner workings where both he & then it disappe -ared into a Genie's bottle, into which she promptly tamped a cork. Praying to the caffeine gods for strength, she hurled the bottle into another dimension and it was gone. Somewh -at annoyingly, the genie came back to haunt her the next night. "OooOOOoo! Don't you wish you'd used your wishes, little girl?? Now I'm here, and I'm not going awaaaAAAyy! ooOOo! The girl spoke. “I wish you were a housefly!” In a *POOF* the genie was a housefly. The girl rolled up a newspaper and swatted the genie, killing him. She lived happily ever after.

 

Comments

1 Woab's photo

So, did the genie wind up being a bundle of organs with no name?

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