Meredith Haggerty bought a lamp off Etsy and discovered an evil genie. She wished to have a column in a prestigious blog, and the genie gave her this.
The Evil Genie answers three questions a week, so leave a wish in the comments and check Wednesday to see if it’s answered!
Nick wishes: Genie, could my girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend be placed in some kind of witness protection kind of thing? I don’t want to cause any trouble.
Genie replies: First of all, if you don’t want to cause trouble, you don’t bring your problems to an evil genie. Go take a fistful of pennies and hang out in a shopping mall wishing well.
After witnessing the gangland triple murder of your parents and their brand new puppy, your girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend is whisked into witness protection. Well, not whisked exactly– first, he has to stand up in court. For his bravery in testifying against “Short Legs” Marscapone, a notorious crime boss, your enemy is hailed as a hero. As you mourn the loss of your parents, everyone else is focused on your girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend; the media heaps praise on him, your mayor gives him a the key to the city, your extended family wants to put him up for sainthood, and bureaucrats argue fiercely about whether he should be honored with a school or a bridge or a hospital wing.
Your girlfriend, for her part, stays by your side, but never seems to tear her eyes away from the extensive TV coverage.
After the trial and shortly before he disappears forever, your girlfriend’s former love convinces the FBI to let him say goodbye to a few special people — your lady included. He says goodbye to his brother, his friends, his grandparents, and his own mother and father. He does so stoically, with dignity, a single tear falling from his chiseled face. Your girl looks on, slowly realizing that he is saving her for last.
When he finally reaches her, he tucks her hair behind her ear. She always hates it when you do that, but now she is blushing. He leans in and tells the light of your life an important secret: witness protection has gone hi-tech. With the advent of the blogs and cetera, he cannot simply hide with his own face, so he will be undergoing extensive plastic surgery. He cannot tell her what he will look like or even what kind of person he will be — gender, age, race may all be altered — but he can tell her with great certainty that he loves her, that he has always loved her, and despite the hardship his courage has brought upon him, that he will be looking out for her.
And now he’s gone! Probably? You can never really be sure, but oh man, you know who can REALLY NEVER be sure? Your girlfriend. She is driven to distraction — searching the faces of Dunkin’ Donuts night managers and overly friendly office temps. She stares wistfully at Hispanic toddlers and old white women feeding birds in the park. She makes you eat at Red Lobster for a week straight, only later admitting that it was because she swore the clearly gay teenage host gave her a knowing look.
You catch her peering closely at Lisa Kudrow during an old episode of Friends. “What are you doing?” you ask, bewildered. “That’s a RERUN.” “I”m sorry, there’s just something in her eyes,” she weeps. She hasn’t looked at you for weeks. Yours are the one pair of eyes she knows do not hide the man she loves. But she is always looking, looking, looking; she is all eyes, and now all that force is finally turned onto you, and you see the truth of your situation.
And that’s when “Short Legs” Marscapone’s henchmen storm in and murder you both. That guy does not like to leave loose ends.