Warning: Not to be read by people allergic to genies, baseball bats, Canadian television or iconclasm. For all others, hope you enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Five
Four More Wishes

Eragon, Saphira, Arya and Orik were traveling through Alagaesia---again, 'cause I'm repetitive with this kind of thing---when Eragon suddenly tripped and fell onto his face.

"Ha! Eragon, just you tripped and fell onto your face!" Arya snickered.

"LOL!" Saphira screamed.

Glaring at them, Eragon picked himself up, holding something in his hand. "I tripped over this stupid old oil lamp," Eragon grumbled.

"Ooh, great! I'm hungry," Saphira said, licking her lips.

She snapped her neck around and grabbed one end of the lamp; Eragon let out a cry and a tug-of-war commenced. "Hey! Stop it! That's mine!"

"Hey, no, give it to me!" Arya said, trying to grab it from them both; its shiny reflective surface, she thought, would be perfect to use as a mirror with which to comb her ever-so-sculpted eyebrows.

"Hey! Stop!"

"Give it!"

"I didn't get breakfast today!"

"Agh, you're all being stupid!" Orik said, and leaped forward, trying to grab the damn thing just to keep the others from fighting about it.

But just then, as the four were stupidly wrestling over this ancient old piece of seemingly-useless crap, a huge spurt of smoke shot out of its end like a rocket. Which was unfortunate because that end happened to be in Saphira's mouth. She sputtered and let out a cough so strong it knocked the others all to the ground, causing the lamp to fall as suddenly a genie materialized before them, letting out cries and trying to wipe a large amount of dragon spit from his vest.

"Augh! And stuff," he said, shaking his head. "What the f-ck?!"

"OMG! A genie!" Arya cried.

"LOL!" Saphira screamed again. 'Cause I just thought it was really funny the first time.

"Yes! I am a genie! And stuff," the genie said. "And now, whomsoever has rubbed my lamp gets three wishes! And junk."

"But---wait, I think we all rubbed it," Eragon said, feeling a lump on the back of his head.

"Oh. Then you each get one."

"What? Wait, why don't we each get three?"

"Because I'm lazy! Yeah."

"Hmm. That's also the reason that this story has gotten to be written in such a quick, hurried way," Orik mused, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

Hey!

"Oh what? It is!" Arya snapped. "And the updates take forever!"

"Now, hurry and make your wishes!" the genie cried dramatically, wiggling his fingers at them mystically before checking his watch. "Seriously, I have a date in a couple of hours. A hot date," he added, glaring at them.

"Guys, we gotta think this through," Eragon said, turning to his friends. "This is a great opportunity we have here! We could use these wishes to overthrow King Galbatorix, free all the slaves in the kingdom, bring peace and prosperity to Alagaesia and---"

"I WISH BARACK OBAMA WAS HERE!" Arya screamed suddenly.

The genie sighed. "Every first wish is a celebrity," he muttered, folding his arms and nodding his head.

POP! A tall, dark-skinned man in a suit appeared, looking confused.

"Uh...what am I doing here?" Barack Obama asked, looking around.

Eragon gaped. "Arya! What did you do that for?! That was a waste of a wish!"

"'Waste of a wish?'" Arya repeated, coming up to the confused man she had summoned and running one finger down the front of his shirt. "How can you call it a waste to summon such a...hot, amazing man into our world?"

She gave the U.S. President a lustful, predatory smile. Barack Obama took a safety-step backward. "Um---heh-heh, I'm flattered, ma'am," he said, trying to force her hands away as she reached up to message his chest, "but I'm actually married---"

"That never kept me away from a Democratic president before," she whispered, taking a step toward him. Barack Obama retreated further, only to find a rock sticking out and blocking his escape. Arya suddenly grabbed him by his ridiculously oversized ears, drawing his head close. "Now kiss me, you godlike ebony Presidential stud!"

And with that she forced his face onto hers and began to kiss him, quite against his will. Eragon gaped in amazement at the sight, before the genie cleared his throat loudly and tapped on his watch. "Um, date in a few hours, I'm gonna need at least two to get ready, and stuff. So, like..."

Eragon motioned toward Arya and Barack Obama; the former now had the latter up against the rock, unable to escape as she did things to him that were making Eragon feel, frankly, a little jealous. "Um, could you, like, stop them first? 'Cause I think if this goes on any longer you're going to legally responsible as an accomplice to something."

The genie sighed. "Alright, and junk."

He snapped his fingers, and with another POP! Arya was suddenly in a metal cage hanging from a nearby tree. "Hey---let me out of here!" she cried, shaking the bars and causing her whole prison to sway. Barack Obama leaned against the rock, holding his chest and gasping for air.

"Alright, there. Now, next wish, please."

"Okay," Eragon said, pausing to think. "Now, we've already wasted one, so we need to be careful...we need to think this through logically. I think---"

"I wish I had a baseball bat!" Orik screamed.

The genie shrugged and clapped his hands. With another POP! there was suddenly a small club in Orik's hands.

"ORIK!" Eragon cried. "That's another wasted wish! What did you do that for?"

"This," Orik said simply. Then he pulled the club back and whacked the still-panting Barack Obama upside the head with it.

"AGH!" he cried, falling to the ground and grabbing his head. "What was that for?!"

Orik shrugged. "I'm a Republican." He leaned the bat back over his shoulder, twirling it a bit like a baseball player. "Now to do to you what you do to unborn babies!"

His face went pale. "Stab me in the brain stem with scissors?!"

Orik blinked. "Well...okay, not exactly what they---oh, whatever. Eat baseball bat, you elephant-eared Commie!"

BANG!

"OW! AGH! OOH! STOP THAT! SECRET SERVICE!"

Eragon sighed and facepalmed, turning away from the sight of the dwarf beating Barack Obama with a baseball bat on the sandy desert ground. "Huh...that was a surreal sentence," he muttered, looking up. "Well, at least we still have two wishes we can use."

"Ooh, ooh! Can I go next?!" Saphira asked.

"Well---alright," Eragon said hesitantly. "As long as you don't just wish up some puppies to eat, or something."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "I wish that Total Drama Action would start playing early in America!"

The genie pointed and a TV suddenly appeared on top of a nearby rock, turning to Cartoon Network. Saphira let out a squeal and rushed over to it. Eragon's jaw dropped.

"You wasted a wish on a TV show?!" Eragon cried, pulling at his hair.

"Well, do you want to wait until the summer to find out if Harold winds up with Leshawna or Heather?" she asked, turning her snakelike head around to glare at him.

Eragon sighed. "I guess not."

"Cool. Then come watch it with me, it's---" She froze. "Wait a minute. Hey, it's the right time---why isn't it on now?!"

"It's not airing here, and stuff," the genie said with a shrug.

Saphira's mouth fell open. "But I just wished it would be playing early in America!"

"Yes," the genie said, patiently, "but do we live in America, or anything?"

"Wha---buh---NOOOOOO!"

She broke down, crying profusely. The genie turned to Eragon. "Well, kid, you're the last one, and junk. What do you want? And crap."

He sighed. "Well, I guess since everybody else wasted their wishes on stupid stuff, it's up to me to wish for something useful." He paused, took a deep breath and said, "I wish that King Galbatorix---"

"ERAGON, STOP! Don't do it!" Arya called from her swinging tree prison.

He looked up, startled. "Why not?" He crossed his arms sullenly. "I'm not resurrecting John and Robert Kennedy for your amusement, if that's what you're thinking."

"Eh, neither of them were that good anyway," Arya muttered. "What I mean is, you can't overthrow King Galbatorix! If you do, this story will be over, and there are still seven more chapters JoeMerl's supposed to write, not to mention the actual last canon novel!"

Eragon blinked. "Oh man...you're right. I never actually thought about that!"

Orik paused in his horrible, merciless beating to look over at him. "For the good of us all, Eragon, you have to wish for something stupid and selfish!"

"...Can you please stop hitting me now?"

"Will you take Hillary out of the line of succession?"

"I can't do that!"

"Well, then, no!" BANG!

"OW! OW OW OW!"

"Oh, shut up! You read Twilight to your daughter, you deserve this pain!" WHAM! "Plus it's not even actually injuring you, you have a 'JoeMerl doesn't want to be arrested' character shield!"

"I know, but it still hurts! Agh!"

"Stupid and selfish?" Eragon frowned. "Like what?"

"TDA! TDA!" Saphira screamed, clawing at her head and weeping profusely.

"Letting Arya out of this cage! I like that idea!" Arya yelled, shaking her bars.

"Ooh! Wish for a few more liberals. Preferably hemophiliacs," Orik said, grinning an insane, maniacal grin.

"Or you could just make her your sex slave," the genie muttered behind his hand, jabbing a thumb up at the caged elf. "Helgrind, she's already in a cage..."

"HEY! I heard that!"

"I don't know!" Eragon said, looking pained. "I mean, I get any one wish? What should I..." Suddenly his face lit up as he snapped his fingers. "I know!"

"What do you mean my newest book didn't sell?! Everybody loved the first three!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Paolini, but ever since that new sixteen-year-old writer somehow managed to get published with his crummy fantasy novel..."

Wow. Making fun of Christopher Paolini, Barack Obama and Twilight all in one chapter. I'm gonna get a lotta flames for this.

Also, disclaimer in case any Secret Service agents are reading: I do not endorse using a genie to conjure up Barack Obama to have dwarves beat him with sticks. It's just a joke, please don't arrest me.

(P.S.: Today is my birthday. I also posted Chapter Eight on my birthday...two years ago. Wow. I gotta move faster with this story.)