Now for the Real News

"It's my 18th birthday," said Megan, "and you're all going to get the presents. Now that I'm 18, it turns out, all my wishes come true. Oh, I guess I should start with this -- I wish no one would freak out or anything about the fact I have magic powers, like everyone just sees it as a talent like playing the piano or whatever."

The text on the teleprompter was jiggling up and down, apparently an annoyed signal from Arthur that she should get back to reading the announcements.

She ignored it and instead said, "Now, I wish everyone under 18 just wasn't in school today."

She glanced over to see Mr. Daniels, looking highly annoyed that he'd had to put down his iPad, standing in the doorway to the control room gesturing. Arthur, having gotten up from the control console, poked his head out tentatively.

Megan turned toward him and asked, "You didn't cut the feed, did you?"

Wide-eyed, he shook his head.

"Good," said Megan. "I wish nothing or no one could cut the feed, and no one will be able to turn off, or even lower the volume on, any of the TVs in the school, until I say otherwise. Um, I also wish the doors into this studio are locked, and no one will disturb what's happening in here."

She looked back into the camera that was currently broadcasting her image and said, "Instead of these big cameras, I wish we had some magical flying cameras that will pick up all the action, and equipment that will magically produce a show."

Suddenly, the large studio cameras disappeared, replaced by white plastic spheres about the size of tennis balls. One hovered to continue getting a shot of Megan sitting at the anchor desk. The others flew and positioned themselves to show Arthur and Mr. Daniels.

Mr. Daniels sighed. He finally spoke, "Listen, young lady --"

Megan interrupted, "I wish you'd be a statue until I decide what to do with you."

The teacher was suddenly **** into a "heroic" pose, his clothes disintegrating as his body turned to marble. Within seconds, it was as if the Greeks had made a statue of a middle-aged man with a definite gut, and it was sitting in a TV studio for no reason.

Arthur had ducked back into the control room, one of the cameras flying after him. Megan stood up at the desk and sharply said, "Arthur, are you hiding from me?"

There was no response, so she tried, "Arthur, I don't think you want me to wish you to walk out here."

He meekly returned into the main studio, his eyes downcast. Megan said, "Oh, come on. I think you're going to like this. I wish..."