"You know what, here's a Big Mac for free you chromosomal anomaly."
The genie gave a sideways glance at the armchair psychonanlyst.
"Three more wishes and I can go back on the cover of 'The Return of Jafar' so make it snappy, Sigmund Roid."
"Wish fulfillment is an infantile activity. Worse still,
Um, no. If you would just shut up and get on with the joke we could get to the punchline already.
"
Fuck this shit I'm gonna write a rant on the NIE report.
"Or you could just grant me my three wishes."
Fine.
"I wish to end this dream. Dreams are the only place where we get whatever we truly wish for."
And so the psychoanalyst woke up in his armchair with his girlfriend Jeanie on top of him, a Skee-Lo song blasting on his alarm radio, Bill O'Reilly ranting about suicide bombers on TV and a cheese-fondue stirring samurai in his kitchen talking to Frank Whaley and Kelly LeBrock with a clinically depressed chicken on his shoulder.
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