58. Genie in a Bottle
“Oh, what the heck!” Amy says. She begins rubbing the lamp furiously. Almost immediately smoke begins to billow out of the nozzle of the lamp. Amy's eyes fly open in shock and wonderment as she gapes at the magic happening right in front of her face. She mentally prepares herself for a spectacular light show, possibly accompanied by a humorous musical number loaded with anachronistic references.
“You have freed me, mortal!” booms a voice from the cloud. The smoke clears and an imposing figure is revealed. He seems about eight feet tall and is very muscular. He has a black van dyck surrounding a pair of cruel lips. His eyes are solid gold. On his head rests a turban. He wears ornate blue silk pants and a red vest. On his wrists are golden manacles, the chains of which are broken after a few links.
He stares at Amy for a moment, then throws his head back and laughs. “Of course it would be a woman foolish enough to release me from bondage.”
Amy feels this is the appropriate juncture to make an issue of this statement. “Hey! I don't know how long you've been in that lamp, but nowadays women are just as good as men! That is, I mean that women have always been just as good as men, but now people all believe that they're as good as men, too. Or at least, they say they believe that. Or really... I mean, it's just not polite to say that women are foolish!”
This make the genie laugh. “Women as good as men? Then let's trade jobs! See how you like a thousand years trapped in a lamp!”
Amy panics as she realizes that she may be in over her head, “Hey, wait! That's not my wish! I didn't wish for that! I didn't even wish for anything!”
The genie scowls. “You think me your servant? That I must do your biding? In that you are gravely mistaken! My imprisonment ended when you rubbed my lamp, and I now serve no master but myself. Now, I have had enough of boring conversations with mortals. Feel my power!”
The genie points his hands at Amy and, with a puff of smoke, Amy is transformed. Her clothes have disappeared, replaced by a red bandeau bra top made of silk and a pair of wispy, translucent pink pants. Her wrists are now bound by golden manacles, with chains that extend into the nozzle of the lamp. Her eyes have turned from blue to solid gold.
The genie claps and Amy feels a rush of air as the chains on her manacles are pulled, drawing her into the lamp. Her world is darkness and she is completely unable to move.
Looks like Amy has a good long while to contemplate her actions. “If I ever get out of here,” she vows, “first thing I'm going to do is find the author of the Arabian Nights and give him a good talking to!”
Amy is in no condition to continue this adventure.