Damon clutched at his throat and chest desperately. Air! He needed air! Or he'd die here! And leave a body for future astronauts who would be very, very baffled as to his presence. If his corpse wasn't obliterated by an asteroid first... How could the genie do this to him? He had to know a simple human would suffocate there! Without mentioning the cold. It was space, so of course dreadfully cold! How could he call the genie? He needed to return to Earth!
Luckily, if this genie was mischievous, he knew when a lethal joke was enough. He appeared in front of Damon, and spoke as if nothing was amiss. For him, maybe not indeed.
"You are now on the moon, master. Are you content?"
Damon shook his head vigorously.
"Oh. Am I to understand you wish to return to your home? Is that your second wish?"
The boy nodded hard, as hard as he could.
"Very well," said the genie.
And with a snap of his fingers, Damon was back. He gulped massive intakes of air. Oxygen! Wonderful oxygen! He never knew how great it was until he had missed it so much. Once calmed, he glared at the genie. Sure, he had saved him, but he had to hjave known he'd need a spacesuit to survive in outer space!
"Well, you have one wish left. What shall it be?" said the genie nonchalantly yet with an evil little smirk.
Damon thought hard. He wanted something but he knew he had to be careful. And then it hit him.