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Corrupt A Wish
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Bill Oakes
Bill Oakes

Sep-15-2006 02:30

This is a very simple and fun game. The first person makes a wish, and each following person finds some way to corrupt the wish and then makes a new wish. For example:

Person 1. I wish I had a dog

Person 2. You have a dog, but it dies the day after you get it

I wish I had a muffin

Person 3: You get a muffin, but you drop it and have to throw it away.

And so on.

Your firt wish to corrupt is this:

I wish I had a new car.

Replies

crunchpatty
crunchpatty
Old Shoe

Apr-24-2010 23:03

*****shazam******

Cordy cordy cordy, you have the flattest, moist pointy-seamedest curtains ever, and as a result, you are all the rage at the "Hey Look How Flat" meeting this month. And as a bonus, you get to feel good about getting the title over that really irritating Disney kid, Selena Gomez. It's just wrong that in todays economy, you have to be felt up by the clammy hand of a random Jonas Brother to get into show biz.

I wish I was a rock star with a long, greasy mullet that had two day old pasta stuck to it.


Sir William Weine
Sir William Weine
Lucky Stiff

Apr-25-2010 00:53

(Mullet?)

And with a POOF! your carefully written wish had a small ambiguity that will turn it against you! You are now a star, made of rock candy, a few million miles off Ursa Minor. We sent the mullet and pasta, but sadly after we fired it from the LARGE cannon, we worked out that we only shot it strong enough to get it into your orbit. Therefore, when you're discovered in 2657 (If we get that far), you will be a laughing stock. And you STILL can't reach that mullet!

I wish someone would corrupt my wish (PARADOX!! HAHA!)

Cordelia Falco
Cordelia Falco
Battered Shoe

Apr-25-2010 01:29

*Sighs*. WW, tut tut. Trying to be difficult on this thread is not new. Really. And we all have to wonder about your motivation here. I mean, are you merely trying to show off, or do you harbour a secret desire to freeze this thread for all time? No more wish-corruption in Sleuth-land? Do you want to be known as an evil, cat-stroking subterranean egomaniac, and if so do you really think your mummy would approve? (That's 'mommy', in case you're in the US and were thinking of coming back by making comments about lurching figures in bandages.) And the evil maniac laugh needs some work, by the way. And do you really not know what a mullet is? I mean, there is such a thing as Google.

You get your wish. I just thought I'd corrupt it by dissing it.

I wish someone would invent a self-chopping onion.

Tagasiyasat
Tagasiyasat

Apr-26-2010 03:45

you just got your wish!
*an onion arrives and chops yourself up!*

I wish I could do this all day!

Sir William Weine
Sir William Weine
Lucky Stiff

Apr-26-2010 09:20

You can, thanks to this machine which slows down time around you! Oops, malfunction, you are doomed to be faster in everything than any human ever can! Wait, that means you have more time to do it! Everything is slower! You may be able to watch hummingbirds beat their wings and walk past cheetahs, but when you get hungry, the wait for your lunch is longer at McDonald's! And alas, your Windows now takes EVEN LONGER to load! Your clothes slow down, your aging speeds up, and by the end of the day you are 50 times as old as your clothes! You panic at the sad surreal world the cat-stroking subterranean maniac Sir William Weine created with a few taps of his keyboard!

I wish I could be me (Hmmm...)

Clint Forthwright
Clint Forthwright
Old Shoe

May-26-2010 18:16

You're you. Unfortunately, you're Sir William Weine.

I wish that for every sleuth dollar I earned, a real dollar was electronically deposited in my bank account, and that the bank, government, and anyone else would not do anything about it.

Sir William Weine
Sir William Weine
Lucky Stiff

May-27-2010 12:33

Wish granted! All of it happens. Unfortunately, during the granting process, the only way to stop everyone from doing anything about it was to, erm, make them commit suicide. The next day, you watch helplessly as your family dies all around you. To make you forget, you turn on the telly. Just as the presenter of the 8AM news shoots himself. Sweating, you leave the house for the newsagent for the local paper. The newsagent is slumped over the counter. You then have to go to the nearest ATM machine for a couple bucks. It malfunctions. You dial tech support. The line is dead. You decide to go to the bank. The teller isn't there. You now have no way of taking your money out of the bank. Although you can just take everything now, five days later you catch a bug. No doctor. You realize it's serious. You PANIC!!! NO-ONE CAN CALM YOUR SCREAMING FIT! You feel very ill. Soon you stab yourself... in the arm with a hypodermic needle hoping it's the right vaccine. It isn't.

I wish people would write on this thread more often.

Inspector Psi-man
Inspector Psi-man

May-29-2010 11:53

Wish granted. Unfortunatey it fills up with marketing people trying to sell you things you don't need, campaigners trying to persuade you to vote for politicans you have never heard of, several BGT contestants who have none, adverts for sitcoms about sheep, and a man who wants to demonstrate the tricks he can do with his spots and ask why he can't get a girl friend.

I wish I had a better job.





Peter O'Neil
Peter O'Neil
Old Shoe

May-30-2010 17:17

You get that better job! But then you discover that although the "job" is better, the people you work with are worse - way worse. Hate that grass is greener thing.

I wish my family lived closer.

Cordelia Falco
Cordelia Falco
Battered Shoe

May-31-2010 07:14

Your entire family moves into the house next door. It's great that you can see them more often, but you're getting concerned - it's a bit overcrowded in there. After all, your third cousin Ethel's just had triplets, your brother-in-law's nephew Ronnie has just married a trapeze artist with the intention of breeding an entire acrobatic troupe, and Great-Aunt Hilda has one heck of a lot of cats. Luckily the house over the road comes vacant, but the family is still turning out to be a lot bigger than you thought. By the time your fifth cousin once removed has turned up and parked his Winnebago on the lawn and his sister has opened a hairdressing salon in the garage, you're beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea. Then your nephew takes up the trombone, your 85-year-old Uncle Ernie takes up rollerblading, and your second cousin's daughter takes up with an encyclopedia salesman. You decide to move to Pitcairn Island.

I wish my ears weren't blocked.

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