“You do know that you are a genie, right?”
“Yes, Michael. And you do know that you are flunking Social Studies.”
“How do you do that?” Michael asked as the Genie made himself go from being very tiny to being a normal sized man although he was blue and not any earthly color.
“I'm a genie. I do the impossible. Like help you graduate from elementary school.”
“That's not impossible, that's inevitable because I'll outgrow the desk.”
“I can see why your teacher handed you this bottle.”
“How do you know my teacher?”
“Sandy Wilkins and I go way back to when she was a girl on vacation who happened to pick up my bottle from a pile of rocks. Now she has given you the noble task of controlling my bottle until your three wishes are up. Once they are done, you may set me free or command me to serve another Master.”
“Three wishes? I thought my graduation from elementary school would be my only wish.”
“Done!” The genie's words were followed by a flash of lightning inside Michael's cramped bedroom.
“How'd you do that?”
“It's part of the wish being granted.”
“Neat! I want to see it again!”
The next lightning bolt was followed by the Genie's observation, “That was your second wish. I'm not sure Sandy Wilkins knew what she was doing giving you this bottle.”
“I guess you're right. She handed it to me and said, “ 'Either you study or rub this lamp.' ”
The genie let out a groan and then said, “To think I've spent fifty years waiting for her to make this third wish and this is what it comes down to, a twelve-year-old flunkie.”
“I wish you'd be quiet!” Michael said and lightning dazzled him once again. “Wow! Hey, that wasn't my third wish, was it?”
The genie opened his mouth, but nothing was heard.
“Hey, no fair! I want my wish back!”
The genie tried to say something.
“I can't understand you. I think that I should give this bottle back to Mrs. Wilkins and let her take care of you. Then maybe she'll give you back to me once her three wishes are up and then I'll give her the bottle once my next three wishes are up... hey, stop hitting you head against the wall. My mother will hear you and then what will I tell her? That my teacher gave me a genie so I'd pass her class? You better go back in the bottle until I give you back to Mrs. Wilkins on Monday.”
And with that the genie produced a puff of smoke and disappeared into the bottle.
“I wonder how long it will take Mrs. Wilkins to make three wishes,” Michael said aloud.
Written for maximum impact.