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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

Akemo
Akemo
Well-Connected

Feb-4-2009 12:03

Blink. You open your eyes, look around you and realize, you ARE Paris Hilton's telephone. The one in her bedroom no less. Your dream/ fantasy/ ultimate wish has come true at last!!!!

Then she comes toward you with a BIG box of body parts. Oh no. You hadn't realized she was as big a fan of Mr. Potato Head as you are of her phone. Because she's attending a pool party later today in the eternally warm southern California sunshine, she's decided that you must have an outfit to match hers. She pulls off your feet and sticks a pair on that have blue summer flip flops. You get a blue polka dot swimsuit instead of your bowtie. Your arms and hands are next; you get a pair of Michael Jackson hands, one glove off and one glove covered in glitzy sparkly things. She exchanges your plain lips for ones that have been covered in some sort of blue lipstick. Your eyes get a new pair of sunglasses, blue with lots of sparkles. (At least she's coordinating the colors. ;-) Last but certainly not least is your ears. Here though, she gets diverted by her little poofy poo chihuahua or poodle or whatever, who decides to piddle on the middle of the rug. So you have no ears (for the moment at least). But so sad. :-( You can't hear her and have no idea what she's saying. You'll miss out on all the juicy tidbits that come out of her mouth. Too bad you can't lip read...

I wish the jack hammer outside my window would hammer somewhere else. Not Breit

Acemaster
Acemaster
Well-Connected

Feb-5-2009 18:13

Suddenly, the hammer stops. You are so relieved! Until they knock down your door and start hammering inside your window. ;-)

I wish a poofy poo chihuahua piddles on Paris Hilton's carpet so much that Paris runs out of money replacing the carpet and commits suicide, for she can no longer pay for anything and like, go shopping or whatever!!!

David Adams
David Adams
Red-Nosed

Feb-11-2009 11:16

Sorry Ace, been packing. And now that i look at it, my first thought is "Paris Hilton lives?" "Still?" So here goes...

Paris Hilton's poofy poo chihuahua develops something of a medical problem that no vet can identify. In a few days, every surface in the home smells like a sewer pipe and Paris is ready to part ways with poofy poo permanently. She spends so much on carpet cleaner and enzyme that her bank account runs dry (hard to do but we are talking about a mansion, i presume). Her father finds out and disowns her. She has to sell her mansion, her car, her wardrobe (OH NO!!!), and, wait for it, her chihuahua! (OH DOUBLE NO)

She becomes so depressed that she signs herself into a mental hospital. Life just has no appeal without her chihuahua to go shopping with or a mansion to put her finds in. But since the Los Angeles County jail is not a premium psychiatric facility for those with criminal tendencies, she opts for Atascadero State Hospital. And immediately upon entry, begins praying for death.

Will that do? I wish Ace was here to help me put things into boxes while i take a nice Colorado ski vacation (complete with pirate cat in bikini by the hot tub!). Not Breit

topkebab
topkebab
Lucky Stiff

Feb-13-2009 10:47

Well if you were expecting thunderclaps and lightning, today is not your day. However a charming young gentleman ("the name's Master, Acemaster") shows up at your door with an all-expenses paid ski vcacation offer in one hand and a roll of duct tape and a box cutter in the other. He promptly bundles you out of the door and suddenly you find yourself in the middle of a Colorado ski resort hoping like anything that he hasn't invited his friends over for a keg party while you're gone. You look around and spot your cat, only somehow he is wearing a polka dot bikini (yellow, natch) and an eye patch. Smooth.

Now comes the million dollar question - is there any snow outside? You look out the window and - yay! there's lots of snow. Lots and lots of snow. In fact it's a full blown blizzard (pun intended) out there. Management have shut everything down and it's forcast to last another week. Ah well, hopefully the hot tub still works... dare you try it?

topkebab
topkebab
Lucky Stiff

Feb-14-2009 20:57

ooooh i forgot to wish! silly me.

ok, i wish to see a shooting star.

Acemaster
Acemaster
Well-Connected

Feb-20-2009 10:05

You zee a zooting ztar! Unfortunately for you, it iz comig right at you! Clozer! Clozer! It inchez towardz you. You try to run, but your legz won't move! Halp! Halp! You yell in ze terror, but the zooting star fliez down and bopz you zmack on za noze! Zen, you notize that it is a friendly ztar, juzt having zome fun! Zo, you become ze bezt of friendz. Finally, you ride on hiz back to Zweden, where you will live happily ever after with many half-human/half-zpace-crap babiez. Have fun!

I wizh I waz French, zo I would talk like zis all za time! ;-)

Sara Lou
Sara Lou

Feb-21-2009 18:21

Bam! You're French! Ah, to be French!! Tis a wonderful thing. You lie on waxed paper, basking in the sunlight of an outdoor cafe. Wonderful. But, holy crap, why are you on waxed paper? You try to look around, but, gasp, you're limp as a soggy... OH NO! You're as limp as a soggy French Fry, because, in fact, you ARE a soggy French FRY!!

I wish I had the ability to ski-doo like Blue. (Ya know, "Blue Ski-doo, we can too!!!)

luc pfeiffer
luc pfeiffer
Red-Nosed

Mar-19-2009 22:14

I've been hoping that someone would come along, rescue me and tell me what this Blue is. Since no one has seen fit to throw me a bone, as it were, I'm going to assume that the Blue that Security is referring to is the hound dog on the PBS reading program and go sniffing along with that. So here goes, howl along with me as you read...

Having searched NUMEROUS pet shops and dog breeders and been unable to find anything near as cute, cuddly and aqua as that animated wonder created by PBS, you write to, you guessed it, PBS and ask to borrow their wonderful, inspirational, always-ready-with-a-rhyme singing pooch. Sadly, someone purporting to be a producer from the show phones you back, asking where you get the nerve to make off with their tune-warbling wonder and telling you that if you so much as send your hero a postcard of fan mail, they will sic the corporate lawyers on you so fast, you will find yourself wishing you were a kitty cat up a tree waiting in vain for the fire department.

Ok, so you tried the rule-abiding approach; now we go for the nefarious, thoroughly illegal and highly dangerous route. You hop a plane to Hollywood, clamber over the fence at Disney Studios, and (having brought a good ten pounds of prime steak), make off with Fang from the Harry Potter films. He's a little bigger than you'd wanted, his coat's not quite the right shade of blue, he's a coward and he doesn't sing worth beans, or in his case, dog biscuits.

Not to worry. You bundle him into your VW Bug (he takes up BOTH the back seats and the passenger seat), stop at a Vons' for a side of beef to stick under the hood, and hit the road for home. Oh, and first you stop at a seedy hair-stylist for a lengthy appointment with a hair-dye specialist. Success! You spend the next three days winging your way home and attempting to teach your new pet how to belt out those tunes like Sinatra, or in his case, Blue.

luc pfeiffer
luc pfeiffer
Red-Nosed

Mar-19-2009 22:25

Unfortunately, no matter how many steaks you sneak him or how many oldies you trill to him, he still sounds like a tone-deaf mutt who just comes up flat (pun intended). Even worse, by the time you get home, word has spread (yep those PBS fiends gave you up) and an even worse set of corporate lawyers are camped out on your doorstep, staring at you as you drive up. (Maybe Dumbo and the U.S. Navy will come distract them while you make your get-away.) Nope. No such luck. You're nailed.

You spend the next 15 years in a secure facility, with no ability to send out letters to your idol. The good news is that since you have unlimited tv priviledges, you can drool over that cute little blue cartoon til the cows come home. The bad news is, your fellow cell mates feel that you are rotting their brain cells faster than if you were addicted to that Barney thing. And they take it out on you at daily intervals. Oh by the way, Disney sent you a bill too, for $25,000 to dye their dog back to his original hue. Have fun paying that off at $1.25 an hour. Cheers!

I wish someone else would come over to kill that spider the next time that Breitkat finds one.

Akemo
Akemo
Well-Connected

Mar-21-2009 12:59

sorry Sara Lou, I have a habit of losing track of names. I hope you liked your time with Blue! Not Breit

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