Your Wish Is My Command

BUTTERFLY

Madison scowled at her reflection. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Relax, Mistress,” the Genie said, casually flipping through the fashion magazine with ripped pages and the corners of certain pages turned down,” By the time this is done, you’ll thank you on bended knee. No pun intended, of course.”
She fought the urge not to drag her nails along her scalp. “Yeah, if my hair doesn’t melt off my skull first. Is it supposed to burn this much?”
“My, images of beauty have certainly changed a good deal in the last three hundred years. Back to the stick figure, I see. Well, well, they’re not as taxing on the stamina. Bigger girls tend to expect you to do most of the work.”
“Okay, a little focus, please? Couldn’t I just, ya know, wish myself beautiful?”
“You could, but I’d probably turn you into one of these,” Genie flashed an ad featuring particularly fence-thin blonde at her,” I think you’d look quite attractive like this.”
Madison scowled at the picture,” You mean if I looked absolutely nothing like myself?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Not even a day in, and I’m already regretting this,” Madison turned her head, but the new angle did little to alter the reflection. No matter what way she turned, it still looked like she was a walking TV antenna. “How much freedom do I have in wishing, anyway?”
“Aside from the three rules I specified earlier? As much, or as little, as you indicate.”
“So if I want a specific something, I have to detail it down to the letter?”
“Think of it as a Christmas wish,” Genie replied, snatching up another magazine with scantily clad males on its cover,” The more specific you are, the better the chance is you get what you wanted.”
“So what if I wished to be a beautiful version of myself?”
Genie inspected her skeptically over the top of his magazine,” Well, you have to give me something to work with.”
“So, how is our little Cinderella doing?” the hair dresser, an obnoxiously perky young woman who had introduced herself as ‘Trina!’, appeared, beaming down at Madison,” Hope I didn’t keep you waiting!”
The grad student shot the redhead a scorching glare. Trina had been an undergraduate in one of the history classes Madison had TA’ed for, and she had been hoping this influence of authority would make the tween-something act sensibly. This hope fell instantly flat, however; Trina had come by to “check up” on Madison’s highlights at last 6 times in the last fifteen minutes, and when she hadn’t been hovering over them, she had been gazing dreamily from across the room. Madison stifled a sigh. It was surely cosmic justice for ending up with a sex genie. She was used to being the invisible girl. Suddenly, everywhere she went, people saw her, because she stood next to him.
Genie beamed up at the girl. “We’re doing marvelously. I must really compliment you on your highlight job-you truly work miracles.”
“Oh, you!” Trina punched him lightly in the arm and burst into giggles (Madison buried her face in her hands.),” You should totally be on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy! I mean, really! I wish my gay friends were as insightful about hair dying techniques as you! Then I wouldn’t have to do all this myself!” She flipped her ember locks over her shoulder in a Waterfall-Shampoo-Commercial worthy gesture.
“Gay, hm?” Genie glanced quizzically at Madison,” What is gay?”
She peaked out between two fingers,” Like men.”
“But then what do you call liking women?”
“Straight. Heterosexual,” Madison could feel her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Genie glanced back up at Trina. “I’m sorry, but I’m not gay. Or, at least, not per say.”
“Oh? Are you-?” Madison saw, from the corner of her eye, Trina twitch in her general direction.
“We are not currently together,” Genie answered, with an absolutely absence of expression. Madison had to really hand it to him-that question seemed to materialize every where they went, and after the two hundredth time he developed a tone of voice and facial expression that hide the disguise for her that he so openly confessed everywhere else.
“Oh,” was all Trina said, but the color in her cheeks was bright, and when she tried to remove the tin foil from Madison’s hair, she absentmindedly started removing Madison’s necklace and earrings first.
“Hey!”
“Oh, sorry. So, listen, are you busy Saturday night?”
“Yeah, I’ve got to be into work early Sunday.”
“Um I meant him.”
“Oh,” Madison grumbled,” Of course.”
“No, I am not busy,” Genie flashed that brilliant smile at her-Madison noticed that he saved that particular brand of smile for individuals who had flattered his ego.
“Well, I’ve got tickets for this really trendy new bar. My friend Dylan is the bartender, so maybe you’d like to go. Ya know, if you want.”
“Hm that sounds vaguely familiar. Doesn’t that sound familiar, Madison?” Genie shot her a scathing glare, and for once, she faltered in surprise. “Wat? What’d I do?”
“I’d love to go,” Genie told Trina,” On one condition. She comes with.”
“Me? I said I can’t go, I work on Sunday!-”
“We’ll see Saturday,” Genie cut in. Madison opened her mouth-and suddenly she couldn’t speak. She tried again, but all that came out were gurgled attempts at words. When Trina moved away to borrow a hair dryer, she gestured angrily at Genie. But he only smiled, and went back to admiring his shirtless male models in the glossy magazines.