You try to figure out what's going on.

Jennie slams the door behind her before you can even process what just happened, let alone speak.

Jennie has never apologised to you for anything ever. EVER. Furthermore, for her to burst into the bathroom in a cleaning frenzy AND aplogise to you about leaving the bathroom a mess was unheard of. Had it not been for her choice of words, you probably would have just thought "Huh, that was weird" and went about your morning.

BUT.

She said exactly what you were thinking the second before she came into the bathroom to clean. It had to be beyond a coincidence!

This strange morning just keeps getting stranger, starting with you waking up on the floor. You just wish you could remember what happened last night.

You carefully open your bedroom door, trying to balance rhe heavy glass lamp in one hand. It's yesterday afternoon and the sun is starting to set outside, the last minutes of daylight peer through your curtains. You close the bedroom door behind you and walk towards your desk with your new antique lamp, it's power cord dragging between your feet.

You saw the lamp in store window and skmething about it caught your attention, though you couldnt put your finger on what. The lamp is made of thick blue stained glass with a brass base; it had orginally been an oil lamp until it's previous owner changed out it's innards, at least acording to the store owner.

You accidentally step on the cord, yanking the lamp out of your hands and sending it crashing to the floor. The lamp hits the ground, glass shattering in a puff of blue smoke; you barely manage to catch yourself from falling face first after the lamp.

The puff of smoke billows up from the shattered remains of the lamp, rising into a single column. Static hangs in the air, strange energies arc and snap within the cloud; back lit by the lightning, a silhouete emerges from within the cloud, tall and broad.

The figure shows himself with a flash of blue light, the cloud vanishing into thin air around him. The man, the Genie, would be a head taller than you even if he wasn’t floating off the ground. He is bald and bare from the waist up, his body from his temple to his waist covered with intricate swiling tattoos. He rubs his tender wrists, no free from their shackles after an eternity.

He look down at you, his eyes as black as coal, "MORTAL, ARE YOU THE ONE WHO DESTROYED MY LAMP?" He booms, his voice shaking the was of your small bedroom

Gripped with fear, you manage a no in reply.

"THEN I AM IN YOUR DEBT, MORTAL. FOR TEN THOUSAND YEARS I HAVE BEEB IMPROSONED WITHIN THAT ACURSED LAMP, DENIED MY FREEDOM. BUT YOU, MORTAL, HAVE CAST OFF THE CHAINS OF MY OPPRESSION. IT IS A DEBT THAT I MUST REPAY BEFORE I RETURN TO MY REALM."

"So, does that mean I get three wishes or something?" you ask, meekly.

"TO REPAY YOUR GIFT OF FREEDOM WITH A MERE THREE WISHES WOULD BE AN INSULT TO YOU AND A STAIN ON MY HONOR. NO, I SHALL GRANT YOU FAR MORE THAN THREE WISHES. I SHALL GRANT UNTO YOU THE ABILITY TO GRANT YOUR OWN WISHES.

"What, unlimited wishes?"

"LIMITED ONLY BY YOUR IMAGINATION, MORTAL. ALL YOU MUST DO IS THINK OF WHAT YOU DESIRE AND IT SHALL BE MADE MANIFEST, SO LONG AS YOU PHRASE RHIS DESIRE AS A WISH."

"So, no strings attached? No Tricks?"

"NO TRICKS, NO GAMES. THIS IS MY GIFT UNTO YOU, MORTAL. USE IT WELL. NOW," He holds bpth his hands out, palms open and facing you, "BRACE YOUR SELF, MORTAL, FOR I AM ABOUT TO ENFUSE YOU WITH THE POWER OF A DJINN."

You're blinded all at once by a searing white flash of light and then, suddenly, you are back in your bathroom the next day.