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Singing Prancer
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>>420455
You mention to the genie that inflation doesn't work like that.
"It does in this quest, lassie." he retorts.
Moving on, you mention to the genie your wish to heal from any damage, lethal or no. He sighs, readies his majick, and tells you to brace yourself.
Ow. Oh god, ow. Fuck everything you said about majick being majestic, this fucking hurts. It feels like a little germ arsonist snuck into your body and lit your organs on fire. It feels like your bones are being crushed into dust. It feels like you're being made to listen to REO Speedwagon's entire discography.
Finally, after about five minutes, the pain subsides, and you collapse on the ground, panting.
"Rought. That should abou' do'er." the genie remarks.
You have eight wishes left.
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