Some people think a genie can only grant you three wishes. They think genies are clever and blue and come out of a lamp. They think a genie will solve all their problems.
Well, I’m here to tell you that those people don’t know the first thing about genies. I didn’t either. Until I met Arg.
Arg is a genie. My genie. My tremendous, terrific, very terrible genie.
The first thing you need to know about Arg is that he can grant all the wishes you want. Or, rather, all the wishes I want. I’m Finn and I’m Arg’s master.
You heard that right; the master part, and the part about Arg having unlimited wish-granting powers–like all genies! Any genie who tells you it’s three wishes and you’re done is a fake. A humongous fake. A fantastically ridiculous fake. And that’s all I have to say about that.
The second thing to know about Arg is that he doesn’t live in a lamp. He lives in a trombone. This trombone. Just look at this beauty! And believe me, she sounds even better than she looks!
Now, if you think I’m supposed to rub the trombone to wake up old Arg, you’ve got another thing coming. The only way for me to get him to come out is to pucker my lips, just so; take a giant, hot-air-balloon-size breath; and play exactly the right notes. Boom bowm bome!
See, what did I tell you? Here he is.
–Hi there, Arg! Say hello, won’t you… … … no, nothing? Oh yes: I wish you would say hello.
–Hello there! I’m Arg.
–They know. I’ve introduced you already.
–Really? What did you say?
–Don’t you worry about that.
Now, dear reader, does he look the way you expected? No? Don’t say I didn’t warn you. That’s the third thing you need to know about Arg. For living inside a trombone most of the last thousand years, he looks this amazing!
–Thank you, Finn. That’s very kind.
–It’s absolutely positively true.
–Arg, since we’re making introductions, why don’t you tell the story of how you got your name… … … oh, fine then. I wish you would tell the story of how you got your name. No need to be nervous. Why are you always so nervous?
–I’m not nervous. It’s just, well, I got my name when my last master was about to wish me free. She said, ‘I wish you were–‘ and just when she was about to say ‘free,’ she got stung by a bee and cried out–
—Argggg!
And that’s how he came to be called Arg–from a bee accident–and I rather like it.
–Arg, now let’s show the world what a tremendous, terrific, very terrible genie you are.
–I want an endless supply of cake!
–Your wish is my command.
(Finn is buried under a massive mountain of carrot cake.)
–Maybe not THAT much cake.
–You said endless.
–You’re right. I did. Okay, now I want to fly.
–Your wish is my command.
(Finn is clinging to the back of a jet, his face crazy in the wind, hanging on for dear life.)
–Not like that. Why couldn’t you just give me wings?
–I’m a genie. Not a mind-reader.
–That’s clear. Okay, now I want to be taller.
–Your wish is my command.
(Finn becomes taller than trees. Taller than mountains. So tall his head is in space.)
–TOO TALL! TOO TALL!
–You look just the right size to me.
–I very nearly crushed your trombone, and you, and the whole world! Okay, now I want to be invincible.
–Your wish is my command.
(Finn disappears from the page, with just a speech bubble left behind.)
–I said INVINCIBLE. Not INVISIBLE.
–Perhaps you should annunciate more when you make your wishes. That means speak more clearly.
–I know what it means. Well, I think that’s quite enough for one day. I wish you would go back into your trombone, Arg.
–Your wish is my command.
See, there he goes. Isn’t he just the most tremendous, terrific, very terrible genie in the world. Personally, I wouldn’t wish it any other way.
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