”You brought me a toy?!” Eddie’s father says, incredulously. The men he’s meeting with snicker a bit.
”It’s not a toy!” protests Eddie.
”You expect me to believe this is a real genie lamp?” Eddie’s father is right -- it does look like a toy; that’s what you thought it was when you found it, after all. It’s gold-colored plastic, with a few fake plastic gems encircling the “lid” -- not a real lid, because it doesn’t open.
”If anyone should be using it,” continues the sultan, “it should be this slave here. I’m sure she’s got some good ideas.” The other men standing around chuckle at that.
”No, father, please, just -- just make a wish. You’ll see,” says the chastened Eddie.
”Okay, fine,” says the sultan, looking down at the object in his hands. “I wish this lamp was in the hands of that slave, who’s back in the harem getting all their wishes granted, while I have a serious talk with you right here. That would be amusing --“
That’s all you hear as the world swirls around you once again. When it clears, you are again holding the lamp, and you’re somewhere else. Somewhere with curtains. You wonder if reality changed, or if everyone in the throne room saw you disappear, in which case they’d know the lamp was real --
”I wish everyone in the throne room would forget that I was ever there!” you exclaim. “And, uh, I wish they’d forget that this lamp existed!” The lamp glows briefly, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
”Lamp?” You hear a woman’s voice from behind you.
You turn to see that you are indeed in a harem. A couple of dozen women of various ethnicities and hair colors, all wearing slave collars and colorful skimpy, gauzy outfits like yours -- only with their breasts covered -- are lounging about on various beds and couches. Approaching you is a petite woman wearing green -- she looks Chinese or maybe Japanese -- and a couple of other women appear to have had their interest piqued at the word “lamp.”
”Is that a real genie’s lamp?” she asks.