Chapter 4

The job was surprisingly simple. A good thing it was too- Aladdin was seriously out of practice.

The plan was clear. Go to the Cave of Wonders antique shop at 10th and B. Find a small, brass Persian oil lamp. It should be about eight inches long and at the very back of the store, hidden behind a combination-hookah-and-coffeemaker. Take the lamp. The end.

So here he was. The Cave of Wonders. Aladdin took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the little bell on top signaling his arrival to the little old East Indian owner. For a brief moment Aladdin felt bad about what he was about to do- the guy reminded him of his grandpa. He found his way to the 'exotic items' display, in the very last of the showrooms, and hunted through origami, crystallized baguettes, gold chopsticks, and the like until he found the lamps.

Wait...lamps? Plural? Crap.

Aladdin paused for a moment. There were eleven lamps. Only five were brass, though, and three of those were the wrong sizes. That left two lamps...well, only one way to tell. Aladdin flipped the first one over and looked at the bottom.

Made in Taiwan.

Okay, so it was the other one. Aladdin glanced furtively around for some sort of security camera (there wasn't one). He then took off his backpack and quickly stuffed the lamp inside. Mission accomplished.

But...well, he felt sort of...you know, bad. Having sworn to go straight and all. Aladdin picked up the imitation lamp and turned it over in his hands. It was only $6.95... but he had just gotten fired again. But still. Aladdin made his way back to the front of the shop. He forked over his seven dollars before he could change his mind, and was waiting for his change when he heard the high-pitched wailing of—WHAT?

Police sirens? Again? So much for staying out of trouble. The little bell over the door tinkled angrily as a tall, dark police officer marched in.

"Hands up," he barked. Behind his sneer, Aladdin could see the officer wasn't much older than him- twenty-three, maybe. "Sir, is this boy giving you any trouble?"

The shop owner gave the policeman a puzzled look. Well, at least Aladdin wasn't the only confused one.

"Excuse me, sir." Aladdin turned up the charm as high as he could. "I was just making a purchase." He gestured to the lamp on the counter. The cop slapped Aladdin's hand back to attention, but he now had an excited, ravenous gleam in his eye.

"I-- I must confiscate this," he said, twisting his goatee eagerly around his bony index finger. He turned quickly to Aladdin. "Get out of here, boy."

Aladdin nodded briefly, dropped his hands and sauntered out of the shop. Holy cow and Jesus H. Christ in a chicken basket, that was WEIRD, he thought. Almost caught, then not caught and he could have sworn he recognized the police officer's oily voice... Aladdin stopped short, then turned down a deserted alley and pounded his fist against a brick wall. Of course! It was the guy who had called about the job, he was certain of it. Damnit, he hadn't even gotten paid yet for going through all that either!

Trying to suck the blood off of his raw fist, Aladdin dug one-handed through his backpack for the good lamp and studied it carefully. What was so special about it? Bobby's mother used to have dozens of these things in her attic. And this one was pretty dirty looking; Aladdin mused as he rubbed at one of the smudges with his thumb.

"OY! A hundred thousand years will give you SUCH a crick in de neck!"

"What...the...fuck?!" Aladdin could definitely feel his eyes popping out as the big blue puff of smoke coming out of the lamp began talking, changing characters, laughing, explaining—"What? Genie? Three wishes?" Aladdin snorted. "What is this, freaking Arabian Nights?" Aladdin tried to think of some possible explanation for this...thing. He took his fist out of his mouth and studied it. Yeah, he had to be suffering from some kind of serious blood loss. That was it. "This is impossible. I am probably having some kind of clinical blood loss and you are a figment of my over-active imagination, not a genie. This is crazy. I bet you couldn't even...umm...fix my hand!" Actually, that wouldn't be half-bad...

Whoa! The whole end of Aladdin's fist was covered with smooth, tight skin- not a scratch!

"Okay, I'll believe you now. So, three wishes, eh?" Infinite possibilities, only three wishes. Dang.

"Excuse me, do mine ears deceive me?" The Genie seemed to be warming up to his new master. "Three wishes? You are down by one, boy!"

Aladdin thought about that for a second. "Hey, I never asked you to fix my hand. You did that on your own!" He grinned at the Genie, who could see when he was beaten.

"All right, you baaaaaad boy," he replied, transfiguring into a sheep. "But no more freebies!"

Aladdin laughed, then glanced at his watch. "Okay, okay, no more freebies. But I've gotta get home, so we'll talk about this later." The Genie zoomed obediently back into his lamp, which Aladdin threw into his backpack. That taken care of, he ran home to tell his friends what he'd seen.

"A big blue thing? Dude, Aladdin, I thought you said you didn't use!"

"Omar! I don't, for God's sake! I'm serious, it was huge and it talked and—"

"Come on, Al. What is it—coke? Pot? Meth? I've herd crazy stories about that stuff but this is by far the—"

"Omar!" Aladdin was getting frustrated, fast.

"Calm down, Al. I was only saying that whatever it is, that has to be some serious hardcore shit." Omar paused for a moment, his 'I am having way too much fun pissing you off' look plastered on his face. "Where can I get some?"

"OMAR!" Aladdin and Bobby shouted in unison.

"Leave him alone, Omar," Bobby laughed, going back to his developmental psychology homework. "Go fuck your girlfriend or something."

"You know, that is an excellent idea. Aladdin, you need a girlfriend to keep you off the drugs, sweetheart." Omar's stupid grin was back.

"I AM NOT ON DRUGS!"

"Okay, okay." Omar could barely talk; he was laughing so hard. "Have fun, kiddles. I know I will." He headed for the couch and Bobby threw a notebook out the kitchen door after him.

Aladdin shook his head- now he was laughing too. "I'm gonna go up on the roof, Bobby." Suddenly, an idea began forming in his head for his first wish. "Oh, and, um, I'm probably going to be away for the night. Tomorrow too. Okay?"

"I guess so... Don't get yourself killed or anything, okay?" Bobby started scribbling furiously on his psychology textbook. "Whoever wrote this thing should really meet Omar."

A/N: Woohoo, 2 chapters in one day!!! Well, come on I couldn't just leave you hanging... actually, I could. But I won't. Kisses to all my marvelous reviewers, plus Karin and Jen, I love you guys. Enjoy, and remain firmly positioned on the end of your seats for the next chapter. Wheeeeee!