No sooner had Amanda walked around the corner of a building, when someone grabbed me from behind. I was spun around and found myself face-to-face with the neanderthal.
"What the hell's the idea of givin' presents to MY girl!" he yelled in my face.
I didn't waste a moment. But I felt poetic for once. "Here's a wish that's really neat," I said. "I wish you were a bitch, a little bitch in heat!"
The look on his face was worth the momentary scare he had given me. I guess I must've had poodles on my mind, because that's what her turned into, a toy poodle. And THIS time, the wish was granted right: He didn't turn into a stuffed poodle, like Dr. Mettler, but a living poodle of small size -- the breed "toy poodle." I could tell he -- I mean she -- was definitely in heat because of the way her teats were protruding. Finally, for good measure, I wished his clothes would disappeared.
At that moment, a man walking an obviously male bulldog came around the corner. In seconds, the bulldog was sniffing the poodle's butt.