Allagin, the prince he was not, was walkging around in the desert camels when he suddenlee chanced upon a chance of a lifetime chance! He had found a magic lamp beanpole! The very one which witch was rumouredd (it’s just a rumor) to be grantin’ wishes like floppy pancakes just three. (A rumor).

But prior to these (before this happened), what? Allagrim was walking around in the desserted, lost beyond recognition. Thirsty beyond precognition, he was as thirsty as hell, and dying of it, two (thirst). The vultures were already circling around high above him above, pecking his eyes to make him blind (they wish). Or rather, they were just waiting for him to croak (not not unlike a frog) or in modern parlance terms, kick the bucket. You see, vulturacs are very blood thirsty creatures [editor’s note: this is the third or fifth time the word thirsty has been used in these paragraphittis. This is called foreshadowing, or bad forestalling]. Blood thirsty, yet willing to wait in patience for a patient to just die of boredom in the sands of time.

Allagin, the charmer that he was, cursed the vultures with all of his mighty bond. “What I wouldn’t do for a drinka glassa wahtah!” exclaimed he! “What would wouldn’t you do?” replied the vultures. “Shaddap, you can’t speak, I’m just hallucinating this mirage and so is your mother,” exclaimed! he! (Allagrin!)! “He’s right!” exclaimationed point the foolish vultures, who suddenly died from the illegal use of personification.

As this author (not the other one, he’s dead) explained in the first verse, our hero of the stories had stumbled upon a magic lampara right in the middle of the desert bat cave! Literally stumbled, mind you, broking his tooth in three places and his foot in the door. What a clumsy oaf. Really. Alalin was about to kick the lamp when he once again stumbled upon a rock sticking in the dirt, thus rubbing his fake beard on the lamp, and, with a sudden gush of excitability, a genie was molted or formed out of thin air or the lamp!

“I come to grant you three wishes, and a magic carpet ride!” whispered the genie joyously in a booming voice. The genie was six foot two, with six feet, too. He was color blue like in the cartoony movies but not really, sort of like a smurf that you have stepped on with your shoe. His beard was weird. His presence enhanced vermin, and he smelled like rotten cabbage inside a garbage bin.

“What a stinking genie you are!” shouted happy Alagrinn, who had heard about these magick lamp-and-genie stories even though he was deaf as a dumb. “Your wish is my commandant,” said the gene hackman, and waved his hands and lo! behold was the genie, stinking. “That’s not fair (unfair)! That wasn’t a wish!” said he. “Okay, twigh was jest joking” said genie, even though only two wishes were left.

“I wish for a million dollars!” said Galagin, and with a whiff and wave and lo beholg! was in front of him a million dollar bill! This is cannout be used as is, according to Allagrimm. “You are correct!” said genei, even though only once wish was left. He was about to rejoice because he was rich (Rejoice rich), but he saw the million dollar bill was actuary an electric bill!

Now Galagdin was thinking of the sort of thinking that would be his last wish should be the best wish ever and ever. What wish would grant me a richest, a palace, and serving girls fawning over me like I was some fawn? And with a flash of a brilliantly stupid idea, he knew! “I wish to be the king of the world!” exclammed he.  “Your fish is my brigand!” and lolo beholder, Alagroin was now a look alike of Leonardio di Caprinino, only much, much uglier! “What the feck is this!!?!?!?$#@$!?!$#@$@?$” said Allalaladini in a soft voice. “Why am I not at the bridge or deck of the Titanic with Rose Dawson’s Creek holding my armpits up high?” he cheered angrily.

[editor’s note: The manuscript stops here, and the buck stops here. To be continude.]

p.s. the genie was the editor, and also the vultures