{January 16, 2015}   Imaginings


i imagine i imagined everything
dreamed it all up
just to keep me sane,
i was a genie and granted all your wishes
little bubbles of time and space floating
and i’d slither from one to another,
keeping the balance balanced
sprinkling glittery hope like snowflakes
to cover the ugly,
make it twinkle like my eyes,
i tried to keep the stars in place
but they pushed back too hard and i tumbled,
you caught me anyway,
but my thoughts became scrambled,
foggy and fearful and full of wonder,
not the wonder of it all,
but the wonder of the why,
because it looked unattainable on paper,
perhaps i scattered my mind as i left what should have been crumbs
to lead me back,
i got lost
unsure of what was sure,
forgetting i shouldn’t forget
and tumbling to the bottom,
it’s dark down here
but i imagine i see your eyes glow far above
at the top of the bottle,
you peer down,
i can almost reach you



AUTHORS NOTE:Catt,her Muse,and a Djinn in his bottle, sure it’s bigger on the inside but big enough for these three?
As much as I hate speaking in clichés, if looks could kill, one of us, most likely me, would be dead.
She pins me in place with her cold stare but my Muse speaks only to him.
“Have you made any progress yet?”
Her voice drips icy disapproval, I can tell by her laser beam focus on me that she isn’t too happy right now. I also think she’s giving me heartburn but that could just be my nerves of non-steel.
“Pretty Kitty here is a tough nut to crack.”
As Greenie starts to talk, I notice her piercing eyes dart back and forth between the two of us, settling on him as he continues to speak.
“A little more time wouldn’t hurt you know,” he’s got his arms folded again, and his hulky green mass ripples as he speaks.
I’m not a body language expert, but either she’s getting on his nerves too, or he’s about to wish me into a nameless cornfield.
“You conveniently forgot to mention she has no idea what’s going on. She’s clueless about Solomon by the way. Would’ve been nice if you’d given me a heads up.”
His words are clipped and his tone is snark-infested.
I’m really beginning to regret letting my inner bitch out earlier, I shouldn’t be rude to my host after all and Mr. Genie, if you’re in my head now, sorry about that.
“She doesn’t need to know what’s going on. At least not yet.”
Snapping her finger, a tumbler of what was probably some very expensive scotch appeared in her hand, but I was more impressed with the way she threw back the whole glass without the slightest grimace.
Genie raised an eyebrow and waved his hand in the direction of the now-smoky bar.
I missed the part where the red lights turned blue. Is that a good sign or a bad sign?
“As for time,” she huffs, “time is something we don’t have much more of.”
She starts to pace back and forth, stopping at the bar and grabbing a bottle of what looks like more of that expensive scotch. She drops the tumbler out of the equation and takes a long guzzle, a good half bottle. Impressive actually.
“It can’t be held back much longer.”
I don’t like the momentary flash of panic in his eyes as she says this, but it’s gone just as quickly.
What are they even talking about and what does any of this have to do with me?
“Did you give her the ring yet?”
She resumes pacing, cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
Where’d that even come from?
I quit smoking a few years ago but once in a very rare while I’ll smoke one cigarette. Now seems like a good time for me but I sure as hell won’t ask her for one, not when she’s like this.
“I showed it to her,” my hopefully new BFF sounds like he’s not in the mood for the Spanish Inquisition from Meanie McMuse.
These damn Djinn and the whole name-withholding thing is really grating my nerves.
They know my name, even though they choose to mangle it purposely just to annoy me, but they won’t tell me theirs. I mentally kick my ass for being a bitch to him before instead of showing him my charming-when-I-wanna-be side.
“Showed it to her? What good is showing it to her? She’s a human!”
Holy moly she was pissed!
“You can’t just show her something like that and expect her to, what? What did you expect this one to do, figure it out on her own? She knows nothing and why some puny little human has to be involved in something of this magnitude is degrading to all our kind!”
Her eyes were narrowed and flashing red sparks. I could hear a crackle in the air, for some reason it was getting hard to breathe properly.
At least her focus was off me, she was in a stare-down with Mr Green-Genie.
His blue eyes were turning bullet-gray. He didn’t even blink. I’m getting the feeling he’s as stubborn as I am.
“She certainly isn’t the brightest bulb in the-”
My unexpected outburst is enough to stop their bickering and they turn in unison toward me, shocked.
Genie’s mouth actually dropped open and her fingertips began to smoke.
I don’t care anymore.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!”
I’m just getting myself riled up for a good rant when my muse points one long red-tipped finger at me.
“You,” her voice is low and menacing,”are a mosquito. I could easily crush you and I’m starting to think that you’d be a lot less trouble dead.”
Mr Green-Gene was standing behind her. He stared at me intensely giving me a barely perceptible nod and murmured something that froze my muse in place.
I mean literally.
Frozen in place as in encased in ice.
“Ok Kitten, now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”
He flashes me an extra-toothy grin, not the scary kind, but the kind that lets me know I just might get some answers after all.
ice muse
to be continued…

AUTHORS NOTE: Poor Catt, still stuck in the bottle with a big green Djinn who she may or may not have pissed off and not a Muse to be found, what to do…
I, um, I’m sorry,” I whisper hesitantly. “I mean like really really sorry…”.
There are two ways this can go; either he’ll accept my apology and write it off as stupid human ignorance, or he’ll, damn, I don’t even want to imagine what he’ll do if my Muse’s disposition is anything to go by.
He’s huge, he towers over me making my 5’10” frame feel puny and insignificant, like I’m a tiny little ant about to be crushed by an unaware construction worker wearing size 13W steel-toed boots.
Only Green Genie Man is very aware. Of everything.
And I can’t gauge his reaction to my apparent breach of Djinn Etiquette at all.
He gives nothing away, just stares at me with the most frightening smile I’ve ever seen.
After what seems like hours, he shrugs his huge green shoulders and suddenly he’s mixing cocktails at an extravagant bar that wasn’t there before. There are disco lights flashing and mirror balls spinning.
“Just don’t do it again toots,” his eyes won’t let mine go, I can’t stop looking at him hard as I try.
He scares the hell out of me and he’s supposed to be on my side. I think.
He walks back to me, drinks in hand as if we’re at a cocktail party and he’s the loveliest host with the most.
“Cheer up Kitty,” his voice is carefree and friendly sounding.
“Here, you definitely look like you could use another drink kiddo.”
He can call me anything he wants, long as he doesn’t show me his teeth again.
“What’s with all the doom and gloom? Lighten up toots, you’re safe here with me, even though I’m only letting you stay here because I owe her one. You see I, unlike others who shall not be named, keep my word. As for you,” he looks me up and down then nods his head as if he’d come to a decision about me.
“Ok spill it, if you really aren’t working with Asmodeus then how’d you end up getting involved in all this Djinn-fighting anyway? KitKat, you sure picked a hell of a time to poke your nose in something you know nothing about, the proverbial shit is about to hit the proverbial fan, so to speak.”
Before my mouth had time to follow my brain’s instruction to form words, he cut me off.
“Yeah I know what you’re thinking, I talk too much.”
I was thinking no such thing.
She’s always yammering at me about that, says I make a paragraph out of a sentence or some bullshit like that.”
He looks like he’s getting all wound up and I want to tell him she says the same to me but I’m a little leery of interrupting him.
“Yeah, sure,I talk a lot sometimes but let me tell ya something kiddo, you live in a bottle for a few hundred years and you’ll be talking to yourself long before the first year passes by. It’s not often I get an audience of more than me and I’m sick of hearing myself agree with me all the time.”
He stops for a second as if he’s mulling something over in his mind.
“Don’t get any ideas Kitten,” he leans in so close to me our noses touch, “I’m the one in charge around here so no lip from you missy. Your little Muse friend told me all about you.”
What the fuck does that mean? Curiouser and, I hate to say it, but, curiouser.
He flops back into the plush sofa and throws one of his big beefy green arms around my shoulder, pulling me into him like I’m a rag doll. Is he gonna squeeze the life out of me now?
“Oh come on Kitty Catt-Catt, you really need to learn how to relax. Look at you! You’re all tensed up.”
As he speaks every bit of stress leaves my body and a sort of calmness descends over me, for the first time in a long while I’m almost relaxed.
I wonder if Mr. G has multiple personality disorder or if it’s a Djinn thing. His mood swings are almost as bad as my Muse’s.
“Listen doll, you’ve gone and got yourself in a pretty pickle and you’re up to your eyebrows in enemies. Shit’s about to get real, doesn’t matter what you know or don’t know, he’s coming. Asmodeus is dangerous when he’s focused and he’s been focused on that ring forever and for whatever reason, you’ve attracted his attention. It’s time for you to stop behaving like a mewling quim and get your shit together if you’re gonna go after Asmodeus.”
“Look umm, Mr. uh, Sir, I’m not going after anybody,” I begin to explain, “I was just trying to find something to write about, you know, some inspiration? I didn’t do anything, I didn’t rub any lamps or cast any spells, I just wished I had a muse like that TV show where the writer works with some detective because she’s his muse, you know, something to get my creative juices flowing, an idea to get me over my slump…. writer’s block can be a real bitch sometimes you know… anyway she, my, uh, Muse, she just showed up out of nowhere and turned my life upside down and did you ever meet that Miranda lady? She’s pretty scary let me tell you… unless, is she your friend? Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that…she, umm, she has a kick-ass fashion sense…” I’m babbling beyond any babble I’ve ever babbled, which is a bad bad thing and I can’t seem to stop myself.
Gene Genie sits back, sipping on his cocktail, expressionless. I think he’s expressionless, I’m not too good at reading Djinn but I have a feeling I better learn fast.
“So is she your friend? Maybe I just caught her on a bad day and if she is your friend then I’m sorry but she kinda kicked my ass for no reason and I don’t even know what’s real anymore. And no disrespect intended Mr. Djinn but, umm, I’m not a mewling quim, I don’t even know what a mewling quim is…” my voice finally stops talking.
Genie-man snerks then clears his throat.
“Let’s try to stay on track here Catt.”
Crap. He calls me by my actual name and for some reason that scares me more than anything I’ve been through so far.
“This,” he says as he holds out his hand showing me a ring cradled in his huge palm, “is the key to taking on Asmodeus.”
to be continued…

AUTHORS NOTE: So I was thinking, you’ve only met Catt and her Muse so let’s take a peek at another character or two, all I’ll say right now is : meet Cleo and her Very Protective Djinn. That’s all they’ll let me say right now, they didn’t even want to leave my underground bunker! They prefer to stay quiet because, well, spoilers. But they agreed to pop out their heads for a bit, so please, enjoy.

“I need more saffron! Do I have to do everything myself?”
She pushed her eyemask up and threw her goblet in a fury across the large made-to-order bathroom.
Red wine and crystal shards dripped down the wall, pooling in puddles on the marble floor, bloodlike.

“Mitu!Get in here now,” she bellowed.
As she slipped down deeper into her steaming hot bath, bubbles slowly climbed over the tub as if to escape her potential wrath.
She hadn’t been this cranky in centuries.
The problem was she was bored out of her mind and needed something to break up the monotony of the day-after-day sameness.
Being immortal had it’s perks but at the moment Cleo couldn’t think of one thing she hadn’t already done a million times over.

“Mitu! Where the fuck are you!”
A swirl of mist took form as Mitu appeared, a distracted look on his face as he sprinkled more saffron into the bath waters of his mistress, his owner, his everything.
“I beg for your forgiveness Mistress! Please pardon my lateness most gracious one, I have failed you with my unpardonable tardiness and deserve to be put to death for my shameful neglect!”
“Enough with the histrionics Mitu, I’m beyond bored, knock it off already, the last thing I want to hear is your groveling. And why do you look so shifty? You’re hiding something from me aren’t you? Out with it. Now.”
His did his best to avoid looking in her eyes. He hated being the bearer of bad news.

Cleopatra, once the most powerful woman in the world, adored by the most powerful of men, huffed, rolling her eyes at her favorite Djinn as he backed away in fear.
Cleo sighed loudly.

“Mitu,” her voice held a warning in the tone. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Dear Sweet Mistress it pains me to be the bearer of such abhorrent information but you must know-” he stumbled over his words hating to see the look that would cross her face at his news.
“I would tear out my still beating heart rather than cause you dismay my most-”
“Mitu!” Cleo cut off his babble, “I assume you have a point? Get to it!”

The look of fear in his Djinn eyes was beginning to worry her, she’d never seen him in such a state. She’d grown rather fond of him over the centuries. She almost felt a twinge of guilt for shouting at him. Almost.

“It’s the end of the world,” he said in a rush.

Cleopatra jumped up from her bath naked, eyes sparkling, delicate hands clapping together excitedly.
“An apocalypse? It’s been so long! The perfect way to stir things up! Lets go!”
Mitu breathed for the first time since she shouted for him.
He thought of her as a surrogate daughter, nothing made him happier than seeing his charge smile.
“Your wish is my command Mistress.”

“I don’t mean go as in right-this-minute-now, silly,” Cleo reached over and pinched Mitu’s smooth blue cheek followed by a playful slap.
“I mean now as in after I decide what to wear. What does one wear to an apocalypse these days? It’s been so long…”

Her voice trailed off as she sauntered naked, dripping, dancing, and humming to herself, leaving saffron-infused bathwater in her wake.
Striding unashamed, her bare feet pattered across the bathroom tile onto the plush carpet leading to her near-ballroom-sized closet.

Mitu watched his beloved Cleopatra with a mixture of awe at his beautiful charge’s self-confidence and wonder at her ability to adapt to change.
Her Father had seen to it that his daughter had an army of Djinn at her disposal but Mitu had been bound to protect her eternally.
In a way, he owned her as much as she owned him.

Her Father’s oracles had foreseen what was to come through the years. Knowing she was to rule with her 10 year old brother, he’d given Mitu to Cleopatra before he died.

One of the most powerful Djinn of all, Mitu was devoted to his charge.
He would move The Heavens and Earth to keep her protected and had done so more than once throughout their long years together.

“Mitts, bring me my copper cuffs,” her voice was muffled by the sound of clothes being tossed about as she dug through her extensive wardrobe. “The bracelets Jules gave me.”
“Are you sure sweet Mistress? They are very powerful,” he reminded her.

“Duh!That’s the point Mitu,” she chided.
“Don’t be such a party-pooper, we can’t go to an apocalypse underdressed now can we?”

It had been so long since her eyes had sparkled with anything other than anger and he could refuse her nothing.
“As you wish.”

AUTHORS NOTE: I admit it, I’m a tease. This is a another little peek at something I’m working on in that super secret bunker I have hidden away. Someplace super secret. Just a peek mind you, see, I’m just trying something. Super secret.)
escaping muse
“Holy shit, check out these kick-ass boots!”
Black biker boots had replaced the red desert-boots she’d covered my feet with earlier.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“Who? Moi? Look in the mirror chica, it wasn’t me. You did it all by your lonesome.”
She’s really bad at hiding condescension and man was she ever dripping with it now.
“Stop being so bitchy! I told you, this is just temporary-”
“Everything is temporary chica.”
She loves to interrupt me.
“-and it was the only thing I could do at the time-”
“Time,” she sneered,”you know nothing about time.”
“Ahem,” I give her the coldest stare I can muster, it bounces off her like a pink rubber-ball thrown against a concrete wall.
“As I was saying-”
“You say nothing but words without meaning.”
“-if there was any other way- hey! My words have meaning!” She was getting under my skin and we both knew it.
Do not engage the crazy supernatural being capable of rendering me dead, I remind myself.
“You are thinking thoughts about me right now chica, just because I can’t get into your mind at the moment doesn’t mean I can’t read your intent.”
She’s really pissed off at me for bottling her, apparently Muses don’t like being owned.
Shit, I never thought of it that way.
Being owned.
I don’t blame her for being furious, nobody wants to be owned.
“Look,” I say sincerely,”I promise you, as soon as this is over I will release you. Pinky swear.”
She did that eyebrow-raising thing again.
“Pinky swear?” She asks.
“Pinky swear,” I answer and reach out to her, pinky first.
“You are a very strange human,” she says as she hooks her pinky with mine. “If indeed you are all human, I’m beginning to have my doubts about that.”
~AUTHORS NOTE TWO: I know, what the hell’s going on right? Bits and pieces, it’ll all make sense {rubs hands in glee} of a sort.

use this djinn
In part, it was my own fault.
I mean I should have known the difference between a bottle of gin and a Bottle Of Djinn. I guess anyone could have made the same mistake given the circumstances, after all, how many liquor stores do you know of that have a Magic Shop in the back?
I don’t know if it was because my mind was distracted going over my mental pre-Christmas list or just my stupid luck. I’m leaning more towards the stupid luck side but it doesn’t matter how it happened, the outcome was the same.
Now I have this stupid Genie following me everywhere I go.
I’m sorry, I have a Djinn following me wherever I go.
He gets really cranky when I call him Genie.
First time I did he puffed up his chest all pompous-like,folded his arms and held his breath till his face turned blue. Sounds like a good thing right? Nope.
After his face turned blue he opened his mouth and let loose with a high-pitched screech and said some words that sounded like babble to me but the worst part was his fetid breath. Weren’t enough breath-mints in the world to disguise the breath of a 4000 year old Djinn (I learn fast) who hadn’t brushed his crazy razor-teeth in centuries.
We came to an agreement, my Djinn and I.
I wouldn’t call him Genie and he wouldn’t make my life a living Hell.
I wouldn’t use any of my wishes so he could stay out of the bottle and he wouldn’t make my life a living Hell.
Oh yeah,the bottle of gin my husband told me to get?
Hubby called Djinn “Genie” one too many times,now hubby’s in the Bottle.
Not to worry though, Djinn made sure the liquor cabinet was stocked.
It all started with a bottle of gin.
Doesn’t it always?
Only this was actually a bottle of djinn, same pronunciation, different spelling. Although sometimes the effects can be the same.
But you already knew that.
So after I messed up by picking up the djinn instead of the gin the wind up was my husband ended up in the now-always-corked bottle and the djinn became my constant companion.
It has it’s perks, having a genie around all the time, as long as I remember to never call him a genie. He gets all bent out of shape if I do so we settled on G.
When I say he gets all bent out of shape I mean that literally. G is tall to begin with but a little bit of anger has him nearly tripling in size both upward and outward.
First time it happened he went right through the ceiling, past the second floor and through the roof.
Trying to explain this to the insurance company wasn’t easy but once they came out to the house to physically inspect it, G did some djinn-magic and in less than two weeks I had a nice fat check in my hands.
I try not to take advantage of the endless possibilities G offers me, he’s a people pleaser and I’m his people of choice when it comes to the pleasing part. I figure he already did me a huge solid when he stuffed my husband inside the bottle so why get greedy?
It’s not bad inside there, G wished me into the bottle for a visit when it first happened and hubby was so wrapped up in his endless supply of booze and porn he didn’t even notice he was living in a corked bottle.
It could be worse, right?
My Djinn was putting his ornament on the Christmas tree when he asked me to explain human love.
“You’re asking the wrong person G,”I continued rummaging through endless boxes of ornaments looking for that damn stupid pickle.
“Why what?” I was distracted by a glittery guitar ornament I’d given my ex-husband years ago. He never did care too much about decorating the tree each year, long as it got done and he didn’t have to do it himself.
“Why are you the wrong person to ask?” G was tall enough to reach the top of the tree but he’d insisted on using a ladder.Now he was sitting on the top rung looking down at me with that childlike look on his face.
I put the guitar ornament back into the box I’d found it in and sank down onto the sofa. Figured I should at least be sitting comfortably if G wanted to talk about love because I sure wasn’t comfortable with the subject.
“Because I don’t think I even know what love is G, I thought I did but…”my voice trailed off into silence.
It was times like this that I wished I didn’t have my own personal Genie-In-A-Bottle.
Sure,I could easily wish G back into his bottle but I was getting used to him. It was kinda nice having him around to talk to even though he drove me crazy sometimes with his constant questions.
“But what?” He cocked his head to the side,a look of pure innocence on his Djinn-face and I felt a maternal-tug on my heart-strings. Ex-hubby never wanted kids,I would’ve made a damn good mother too, if given the chance.
“But it’s never too late to learn.” I handed him the tree-topper and my heart felt unusually-lighter.
“Now be careful,the angel’s on top.”
“Do you have any matches G? I have to light this burner if you want pancakes for breakfast. Stupid old stove.”
I grumble almost-under my breath.
It’s stupid early,barely 5am and G had taken to what he called a ‘morning ritual to cease the cold dark with the bright beautiful breathtaking approaching dawn of a shiny happy new day.’
Yep. That really is what he said.
“Shall I start a fir-”
“NO!”I cut him off before he could finish the word. G had a habit of taking things a little too literally.
He’s a genie, not a genius.
“I mean no thanks,G,I just need a match or a lighter or…” I trailed off as he disappeared. Literally.
He has a habit of disappearing too. No puff of smoke, no nothing, one second he’s here, next second he’s not.
Maybe that’s normal for Djinn but G needed to learn some manners.
“G???Oh for the love of-” He popped back into view only he wasn’t alone.
Standing next to him was a tiny little girl dressed in what could only be called rags.
She was covered in grime and dirt and she looked like someone had dipped her in ash.
She couldn’t have been more than 8 years old but her eyes were almost scary as she stared at me without flinching.
“I got her just in time, she only had one matchstick left,” he looked so proud of himself I hated to burst his bubble.
“Uh,G…it’s…I…umm…who is this?!?”
She crouched down behind my genie and peered at me through her scraggly hair.
Poor thing looked petrified.
“This is Sera,she has a match. And I think she’s hungry too.”
He stage-whispered the last part and I sighed as I added enough pancake-mix to feed a hungry Djinn and The Little
Match Girl.
“You need to get out more.”
The NJ Parkway was bumper-to-bumper traffic for miles. According to the local traffic-update squeaking out of the tinny-speaker of my otherwise-great-sounding car-stereo we weren’t going anywhere soon.
“What’s this then?”I did a quick drumroll on my stationary steering wheel while flashing G a half-grin,”I’m out now.”
He answered with an eye-roll and a dirty look which is a lot harder to pull off than it sounds.
“You need to go out and socialize.”
Shit. G was almost pissed,I could tell by the tone of his voice.
Having a Djinn pissed off at you can be a big gigantic bad. And that’s all I’m saying for now.
“Come on G, don’t be all mad at me, pleeease?”I knew he wouldn’t really be mad at me but he’s been all moody lately, somethings bothering him and he won’t tell me anything.
“Forget it. Never-mind.”
He waited a bit as if debating whether to speak to me or not then smiled his weird-genie-smile.
“There’s an article in this newspaper,”he waved the folded paper in my direction. We still hadn’t moved an inch in the damn traffic.
“You’re lonely”,G said as casually as if he just told me to take the next left.
“Um, yeah G, I mean who isn-”
“I signed you up for speed-dating.” He cut me off, words tumbling over themselves to fall out of his mouth fast as possible as he explained his reasoning as to why he felt it necessary to enroll me in some dating thing.
“But why speed-dating G? I don’t want to hop from table to table on 5 minute mini-dates with a bunch of strangers.”
It was a fight keeping my traffic-fueled-aggravation hidden.
“I can easily warp the time-”
“No!!! Um,G,I guess I’m just not ready to date yet.Ok?OK???”
His silence always worries me.
“Why do humans find it necessary to squeeze each other when they leave each other’s company? You’re blocking the television. It’s the last episode of One Life To Live.”
I have a Djinn with a soap opera addiction.
“It’s a commercial and sometimes people like to hug. Why do you watch this stuff G? It’s made-up. And stupid. And possibly causes obesity.”
I had a million things to do so why was I standing in my living room, uncomfortably I might add, talking about,hugs with a fresh-out-of-the-bottle genie… and when did my genie turn into my roommate?
“Humans hug when they greet each other.”
He leaned to his right, giving me a slightly condescending look before turning back to the television.
“Your point?” I asked.
G tended to vacillate between child-like and arrogant and right now he was giving me both.
“I just find it odd. We Djinn don’t-”
“Yeah yeah, I know, you Djinn don’t feel emotion and we weak humans-”
He silenced me with a look (I hate when he does that) and I sighed. There was a method to his madness, he was obsessed with hearing about human family dynamics and I was his default case study.
Out of the corner of my eye I watched his barely controlled excitement. His color was heightened and his eyes large and bright. Focused.
“When I was a little girl every time I left the house I’d have to give my Parents a hug and tell them I loved them, G, you know this already.”
“But why?”
He wasn’t gonna leave this alone as usual.
“In case I died and never saw them again, at least they knew I loved them.”
He was quiet for a moment,thinking then said, “You’re still in my way. And can I have a hug?”
“Uh Oh”
That was the last thing I needed to hear. The words “uh-oh” are rarely followed by good news. I braced myself.
“Uh Oh”
Second time he said it.The Rule Of Three guaranteed a Disaster Of Epic Proportions when there’s a Genie involved. Excuse me, a Djinn.
“What’s going on G? And don’t say uh oh again, just tell me what’s wrong.”
I have a Djinn-problem. Long story short, the Genie in a Bottle was out. Now my usually-invisible Genie was my constant companion.
After a series of events we came to terms with each other in a mutually beneficial way.
He let me call him G after a few of his temper-tantrums left me unbothered.
After I’d unknowingly freed him from his Bottle I’d introduced G to toothpaste and mouthwash . He’d been in there a few centuries and tended to screech when called Genie.
Oral hygienics and me calling him G was progress, take my word for it.
“NO! Don’t say it again G! Rule Of Three!!!” I interrupted him before he got it out; saying something 3 times had Power and I had no idea what kinda trouble an uh-oh might bring.
He threw his shoulders back and crossed his arms, a sure sign of badness to follow.
But there was a weird look on G’s face, one I’d never seen before. I thought I’d seen every look in his extensive arsenal of looks. His bottom lip was trembling. His glowy eyes were getting watery. They looked like a deep pool about to overflow.
“G?” I was really starting to worry. “What’s wrong? Just tell me and please don’t say uh-oh.”
I spoke in a gentle tone,he was scaring me.
The phone rang at that exact moment and I saw the name on the caller ID.
This couldn’t be good.
“Uh Oh”, I said.

et cetera