Be it ever so humble, it's still starter, sweet starter... Enjoy! Ahahaha!!!

Note: This was meant to be a *nice* impro, if you knows what I mean, but
         a few of the characters may have to say some naughty things to just
         to stay in character. ^_^


				     -*-


     In the darkness of night, a city slumbers. A thriving hive of activity by 
day, the streets are silent and deserted by night as its occupants sleep the 
sleep of the just. And on this unholy hour does a lone figure go about his 
work.

     In the isolation of a hidden chamber, he is absorbed in his divinations. 
Unseen by mortal eyes, his hands skim over the age-old pages of his tome,
reading it as he goes, intent upon unlocking its secrets.

     By the light of only his meager fire, he chants the incantation that 
would summon forth a *djinn*. A djinn from the world of deities. An almost 
omnipotent entity that would grant him his very wishes and whims, for the 
creature would be bound by the dictates of his sorcery. The djinn would be his
slave and all the warlock had to do was cast the spell that would call forth 
the spirit from its world and imprison it in the simplest of artifacts. In
this way, the djinn would grant anything if only promised his freedom.

     The sorcerer cackled as his eyes flew over the few final words that would
complete the magic. "May the gates of Fyetha, across the expanse of the 
cosmos, beyond the starry plains of Gjii, create a door to this world and 
open!"

     The doorway to the world of spirits opened but enough to admit the being 
that he wanted. A few more words and it would be his. The gateway floated
before him, strange and menacing yet beautiful. "Oh, ye from the world not of 
mine, I bind thee to this earth by virtue of magic and metal..."

     He was close. Already, the spell was linking the creature to the 
sorcerer's world and creating the rapport that would allow it passage across 
the dimensions. One more chant and it would be done.

     "From the world of Apothrepedies!!! I send you here!!!" he cried, lifting
his head to marvel at his work. "AHAHAHAHAAA!! AHAHA... eh?"

     The gateway closed and the rapport disappeared. The sorcerer blinked.

     "What the *hell*..." he said, reverting to his native language. Another 
gateway appeared shortly but one that was less spectacular and far stranger.

     The sorcerer, who was obviously not very experienced in his line of work,
quickly reread the last line on his tome and found the problem. He had read 
something wrong.

     "Way to go, idiot," said a small voice only he could hear. "Instead of 
saying Apethropodies, you say *Apothrepedies*. Nice of you to bungle even 
*that* little detail, moron."
	
     "Shut up," the sorcerer said tonelessly. "I don't have time for this."

     "That's the last time you cast a spell in the dark, privacy or no 
privacy," the voice told him, heedless of his earlier request. "Then *maybe* 
you can get a chance at getting it right."

     The sorcerer sneered. "So I screwed up a name. What could *possibly* 
happen?"

     "You'd be surprised," the voice told him and silenced at the sight before 
them.

     They watched in awe at the portal that had formed. It closed and what 
remained was the artifact to which whatever the sorcerer had caught was bound.
Apparently, some *other* creature from some other world had been hooked by the
spell and became locked to the host artifact which was now glowing faintly.

     "This," the erred magician breathed. "Doesn't look good..."

     "Tell me about it," the small voice adjoined.
     

 
				     -*-


				   -Genie!-
					
Concieved On A Sugar-high by Madsman
This Part Written by Madsman
Hosted By Syrian Stories ^_^

Part One: Chelsea's Magical Adventure!!!

				     

				     -*-


     When next week came around, Chelsea would be sixteen. She would be filthy
rich and living in a palace somewhere. She would be happily married to some
really handsome prince whom she loved and who loved her. She would be free of
all earthly problems and become a goddess.

     Well, next week had inevitably arrived but Chelsea had achieved only one 
of those things-- she was sixteen. 
     
     Sixteen years old and still living-- if you could call it living-- in one 
of the largest desert cities in the East with no money, no husband and no 
home. This was quite understandable as she was, basically, as poor as dirt and
orphaned ever since she was... well... *really* young. 

     Fortunately for her, however, her general attitude made her almost immune
to the crushing depression that normally followed after terribly discouraging 
evaluations of life like the one she had just given herself. She sighed a little 
and that was just about the end of *that* brief little angst fest.

     Yes, she *is* quite the candidate for winning a Weird-Event-Occuring-To-
Change-An-Otherwise-Dull-And-Unremarkable-Life(tm), isn't she? So with a smile 
and a small spring to her step in the way common to unusually cute, hyperactive 
girls, to say nothing of ones who grew up in the street and despite that, seem
almost oblivious to the harsh realities of life in poverty, the light-haired 
youth went about the marketplace to execute her tried-and-tested way of 
getting her morning's fare (and every other meal for that matter)-- asking for
handouts.

     "Heya, Abdul!" she called out to the middle aged man in a nearby stall.
She waved at him. "Got anything for me today?"

     Abdul looked up from his scrutiny of his stall's wares and his face lit
up at the sight of Chelsea walking towards him and his small shop.

     "Why I believe so, my dear!" he replied cheerfully and disappeared from
sight as he turned around to get something from the back of the stall. He 
faced her to reveal a small bundle in his hands. "Anything for the little 
princess!"

     That 'anything' turned out to be a loaf of bread, good bread at that, and
moments later found the purported princess walking along the marketplace, 
munching on her recently-acquired breakfast in a very satisfied way. 

     Who needed to steal when you could charm most anything out of most 
anyone? A lot of the people Chelsea exploite-... errr... *solicited* stuff 
from were people of age who didn't have children of their own. They didn't 
mind her freeloading much and she certainly didn't mind acting a little 
younger than her age on occasion and getting pinched in the cheek a few times 
if it gained her food and sometimes, even clothing and other small, trivial
things. Like friendship, for example.

     Chelsea squinted up at the sun in irritation. It was high and bright as 
was the custom for mornings in the city, beating down mercilessly on everyone 
as desert suns are reputed to do. What bugged her, was that for some reason, 
she had always been more vulnerable to the sun than most... maybe it was 
her delicate skin, or something like tha-...

     Her mental debate over the sensitivity of her skin was cut short as she
noticed a strange creature fly overhead and block out the light of the, until 
then, uncontested occupant of the sky, the sun, with its massive wingspan and 
lofty crimson feathers. Its wings, when spread out wide, looked to extend 
about twenty meters from tip to tip. Its large beak curved down into a 
menacing hook that suggested predatory origins.

     Chelsea bit into her food and watched the large bird-thing calmly as it 
flew past where she was standing and over a rooftop. It proceeded to deposit 
excrement there that befitted a creature of its size before gliding off to the 
large mountain ranges beyond the desert and becoming a small dot on the 
horizon.

     "A mountain roc," Chelsea mused, halting in her tracks. "They're nesting 
early this year, I see." 

     At that, Chelsea went on with her little stroll, albeit not before making
a small detour from her previously straight-coursed walk, for reasons 
concerning what had just transpired. Other than that, she didn't seem to be 
affected in the least by the large creature's passing. Stranger still, the 
rest of the people in the area were also as unmoved by the roc and its recent
appearance (except of course for the owners of the building that the roc had 
so graciously decorated). They treated it as if it was something they saw
every other day. And it was too.

     Yep, it was just another day. Another fine, normal, boring old day in the
magical desert city of Uherty. 


				     -*-


     A few blocks away, there was a bit of a commotion going on.

     In five seconds, a young man would become over a hundred pounds of deli-
sliced manmeat. He would be butchered, decapitated, mutilated and all of the 
other adjectives that signify someone's being separated from one or more of 
his body parts would be applicable to describe him. He would, in a manner of 
speaking, be killed. Horribly.

     That is, if he didn't continue to run like hell.

     With a quick glance at his surroundings, the youth immediately verified 
that the corridor he was running through at the moment was indeed the one he 
had used previously to gain entrance into the palace. That settled, he ran 
on with no hint of losing speed. For a while at least.

     Feeling confident that he had put up a comfortable distance between 
himself and his pursuers, the tired runner slowed down the slightest bit to 
catch his breath and dared to look over his shoulder to have a look at exactly
how much distance he had put up in his flight.

     It was just over three feet.

     He ducked just in time to avoid getting a free involuntary lobotomy 
courtesy of a really sharp scimitar. The resultant breeze that the guard's 
missed target felt from the swung blade mere centimeters from the top of his 
hair gave him just the motivation he needed to turn the gap of just over three 
feet into one of over six meters in the space of only one second, uttering 
Scared Shitless Scream #4 all the way.

     "EEEEAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!" he yelled as he barged through the 
open palace doors and into the sunlight of the courtyard, towards the outer 
gates. 


				     -*-


     Chelsea's detour had brought her to the palace gates and she was about to
finish off the last of her humble repast and completely bypass the massive 
structures when a commotion from inside them made her stop conveniently right 
in front of the slightly open portals. There, she was about to unconsciously 
avail of the Weird-Event(tm) some deity had chosen to award her on that day.

     The laws of physics dictated that when a moving body comes into contact 
with a stationary one, a collision is created. And it was in this way that the
miracles of applied everyday science presented itself to the running young man
and Chelsea as the former crashed head-on into the latter, birthing on the 
street a small heap of tangled limbs and a *lot* of pain.

     "Ooowww..." the halted thief moaned as he lay sprawled across whomever he 
had run into. He lay there for a while to catch his breath and steady his 
jangled nerves.  He had apparently run into someone. But who...

     "Would you mind getting *off of me*!?"

     The thief sweatdropped (a large one) and stared at the source of the 
voice underneath him. An indignant female stared back, blue eyes blazing and 
attempting to cow her subject into submission just with their constant gaze.

     Both parties blinked twice.

     "Chelsea?" the masked young man said.

     Chelsea blinked again. "Is that you, Karl?"

      "Hey!" the thief said as Chelsea grabbed for his mask and pulled it off.
She could now see his face more clearly.  

      Yup, it was Karl alright, Karl Wyvern. Only he had that familiar tanned 
face, the result of many hours under the Uhertian sun and only he would deep 
hazel eyes that looked innocent when in fact, he was actually the opposite. 
Chelsea would have noticed that he was quite handsome as well, if only she 
hadn't been his friend for so long a time which made her liable to only notice
his other, less pleasing traits.

      He was a poor unfortunate like Chelsea and was, like her, orphaned since
childhood. Naturally, they had grown to be good friends since they had so much
in common.

      However, it was well-known to both Chelsea and most of the neighborhoods
they frequented that Karl's methods of getting what he wanted were less 
desirable and less legal than Chelsea's own. Let's just say that since Karl 
doesn't exactly rate very high in a Cuteness Meter (though he looked good) he 
had to resort to more... *direct* ways of obtaining his daily needs.

     "What are you doing here?" Chelsea snapped at him, though the question 
was rhetorical at best. "You're stealing again, aren't you?"

     "No," Karl said indignantly. "I was... collecting involuntary donations 
for a charitable cause!"

     "Yeah, sure," Chelsea sneered. "Would you mind greatly if I let myself 
up?"

     Karl was about to get up himself but before he could move a muscle, 
Chelsea pushed him off her stomach (albeit, with some effort) and dumped him 
on the ground before standing up and brushing sand off her clothes.

     Karl stood up as well and was about to ask Chelsea about her day when he
suddenly remembered that he didn't exactly have the time to stay and chat with 
his good friend. He turned towards where he had come from to see that his
scimitar-wielding friends were almost at the gates.

     Chelsea was still sweeping dust off her trousers with her hands. "Karl,
I really don't understand your having to steal all the time... maybe if you
just got a job or something, I'm sure you could..."

     Karl walked backwards past her, his eyes never leaving the gates. "I
think you'd better run..."

    Chelsea looked up from her grooming. "Hunh?"

     "RUN!!!" At that, Karl took a step back, spun on his heel and then 
launched into another sprint but not before bending over in mid-run to 
retrieve a small cloth bundle he had dropped upon his earlier crash.

     He ran all the way down the street before turning right and disappearing
into an alley.

     "Now what was *that* all about?" Chelsea wondered aloud. She bent to pick
up her own bundle, the bread that had been jarred from her when she and Karl 
"met" earlier.
     
     Chelsea *would* have contemplated what could have caused Karl to act as 
strangely as he did. However, the troop that was chasing her erstwhile 
companion had already caught up by then, a few of its members not being too 
gentle about grabbing her as they were placing her under arrest, making it 
*considerably* difficult for her to do contemplating of any sort for a while.
     

				     -*-


     Chelsea had been thrown in a dark, dusty dungeon. She of course, had been 
mistaken for Karl's friend (which she *was*, incidentally) and so she was 
arrested and detained until she could tell them where it was that he went... 
along with something of great value as well, it seemed. But of course, 
*damned* if she knew. And that pretty much spelled doom for her chances of 
ever getting out before the next century.

     "Oh, Karl..." Chelsea sighed. "What have you gotten me into now?"

     Well, since nobody would be answering that for her and it looked like she 
would be having a *lot* free time, she might as well check out her new digs. 
Or so she figured...


      After a few minutes of dungeon inspection, she came up with quite the
inventory. She had found a few cobwebs, some loose stone, a pair of manacles
and a chain (apparently, they didn't use them on her on account of that her 
hands slipped right through the holes as they had been designed to hold much
larger prisoners), a few bones which she didn't touch, some sticks and a few 
dusty rags.

     The door was of a heavy type of wood and was, she soon found, immovable. 
There was a small rectangular window near the ceiling, which allowed light to 
enter but was still small enough to give a weasel problems passing through it. A 
very slim weasel at that.

     The situation was hopeless and considering that a friend was partly 
responsible for putting her there, any normal person would have been driven to
despair in a matter of minutes, had that person been presented with the exact
same situation.

     However, Chelsea, with her unbelievably unbendable and unbreakable will 
to be cheerful, was *no* normal person. She was *much* stronger than that.

     She would probably crack in a matter of *hours*. But in the meantime, she 
merely summed up what she felt about her new situation in one quick, two-
worded invective. 

     "This sucks," she concluded.

     She then went on to sing her favorite songs (mostly love songs) to 
herself and sit down to think, look around and do stuff that would amuse her
for the long time she would be spending in there.


     By the time she was bored enough to think that she'd rather be someplace
else, she had recycled her songs ten times over apiece, had recreated what 
looked like several kinds of wild life with her rags and sticks and moonlight
was pouring in from the window. 

     She sighed and thought that, right now, she was feeling a little hungry 
as well.

     At least the guards were kind enough to leave her with the small piece of
bread she had left which was wrapped up in a small piece of cloth for 
protection.

     Her stomach demanding sustenance, she took the bundle hanging from 
her waist, unwrapped it and, without a second thought or so much as a look at
what she had in her hands (she was *that* hungry), bit into it.

     Large, oversized tears formed on the corner of her eyes as her teeth told 
her that whatever she had bitten into was *not* yielding as it should have. 
She rubbed her jaw with one hand and held the object in question with the 
other, her hunger put aside for later.

     *This isn't bread...*


				     -*-


     The room was dark and dreary, the only source of light being a candle 
which cast an eerie red glow on the various books and tchamber. 
The shadows reached out from behind the stacks of occult knick-knacks as if to 
touch the two people with their cold fingers. All in all, the room was very 
successful at giving off quite a spooky atmosphere indeed, indicating that the 
room was meant to scare off anyone who was even remotely aesthetically 
sensitive or tt the room's interior decorator had been more than slightly 
psychologically disturbed (it was probably both).

     The figure turned to face his audience. "Did those heavy duty Whole 
Room Candles (tm) arrive yet? These small ones are hell for my reading."

     "Ummm," the guard replied. "No."

     There was a rustling in the figure's robes. "Oh."

     He turned around again. There were a few moments of silence.

     "Did you find it?" the figure asked harshly, making the guard captain
swallow.

     "No, milord..." the large soldier managed. "We didn't find anything on 
the girl we caught. But she *must* be the thief's consort because we saw them
talking when we were giving chase. She may know where he is hiding."

     "Very well," the figure said after a moment, in the way that'd make you 
think he was satisfied but know that he wasn't. "I want you to keep her until 
she tells us where her friend is. Until then, keep up the search yourselves. 
The treasure that was stolen from me *must* be returned at any cost."

     "Yes, milord..." The guard bowed and hastily exited the quarters in the 
manner of all mindless minions not very necessary to the plot.

     The hooded figure went back to his scrutiny of a strange-looking scroll 
in the privacy of the dark sanctuary. 

     "Bravo, bravo..." a small voice piped up after the guard had left. "Not 
only did you mess up casting the spell last night, you even managed to lose 
the thing to a petty thief before you even figured out how the stupid thing 
works! Brilliant!"

     The figure sighed. "Shut up. Stop reminding me. I'll get it myself if I 
have to."

     "You probably will have to," the voice advised him. "Those guards are so 
dumb that you'd have to take five of them to get the total brainpower of a 
half-wit. I'd trust *you* over them any day, despite your own nincompoopery."

     "How comforting," the hooded figure drawled.

     The guards had earlier searched Chelsea as thoroughly as they could 
without getting personal(she was a minor!!!) but they didn't find whatever it 
was they were looking for. Primarily, this was because they were looking for 
the wrong thing, it seemed...

     When the guard captain heard the word 'treasure', he took it as 'jewels, 
gold, and shiny stuff'. The hooded figure and the owner of the small voice, 
however, were thinking about something much simpler in appearance but was
much, much more precious and powerful... something that could help them 
*rule the world* (or they *hoped* could help them rule the world, at any
rate)... 
something more along the lines of...  

     
				     -*-


     Well, whatever it was, she couldn't eat it, *that* much was certain.

     Chelsea stared curiously at the metallic thing in her hands. It was 
blackish, had no angles and was smooth to the touch. It didn't weigh very much 
and it looked very familiar in the dark. She made it catch the light. Why,it 
was a...

     "Hmmmm, a *lamp*!" Chelsea mused. "Someone must have dropped it and the 
guards gave it to me by mistake! Oh, well... their loss."


				     -*-


     Somewhere in the city, a young thief opens a small cloth pouch. 

     It took Karl a full minute to absorb what he saw inside the pouch in 
place of what he thought would be there. 

     "HALF... EATEN... *BREAD*!!!??" 

 

				     -*-


     Chelsea lifted her new lamp up into the moonlight and peered intently at
her prize. "Pretty weird-looking lamp..."

     She went down to a corner and sat herself down to inspect the thing a
little better.

     "Hmmm... there seems to be a splotch here..." she observed, looking at an 
unsightly blemish on the otherwise flawless black surface. "Maybe if I *wiped*
it a little..."

     She wiped it with a rag and something clicked.

     Suddenly, there was a flash that a million readers could see coming from  
miles away but was, for some strange, unexplainable reason, totally unexpected 
by the very person who rubbed the lamp.

     Chelsea blinked in semi-shock for the third time that day as she saw a
strange person where there had been no strange person mere seconds ago. 

      It was a guy, she was pretty sure of that. However, he was very tall and 
certainly wearing very unusual clothes. The dark blue armor-like body suit 
(that is to say, dark blue cloth patched in vital areas with pieces of some 
kind of lightweight black metal) he had on looked bulky, yet sleek, 
utilitarian and practical... if you ignored the fact that they were in a 
*desert* city and armor that covered the entire body was the last thing anyone
wanted in a desert city, unless that someone was aspiring to be baked. 

     His face even *looked* foreign. It was pale yet he didn't look weak or 
sickly. Instead, there was a sinister touch to his features and his sharp gray
eyes peered out from under lazy strands of black hair which almost, but not 
quite covered the upper part of his face.

     Strangest of all, he was in mid-air. Above her.

     Just when Chelsea was beginning to think that her guest could actually 
fly, the stranger's body sought to rectify its unnatural location above ground 
and land on Chelsea while it was at it. 

     So, for the second time that day, Chelsea was on the ground, weighted 
down by over a hundred pounds of human being without warning and without 
regard for her comfort or ability to actually support over a hundred pounds of
*anything*.

     This just wasn't a very good day for even her.

     "What the...!?" her unwelcome burden said and whirled his head around to
take in his new surroundings. "Where am I?..."

     "Well, for starters, you're on my *stomach*..." came a low groan from 
below him.

     The man blinked and looked at his resting place which turned out to be a
human of the girl kind. His face took on an irritated look as he put his hands
on the dusty dungeon floor to prop himself up and stand upright. As he dusted 
himself off, he took the time to observe the young girl who had just stood up 
and was pretty much doing the same.

     She looked to be about her teens and had light-colored hair that set off 
her bright blue eyes. She had a soft face that projected naiveté and was
quite cute, really. She was garbed in the usual fashion of the time (whatever 
the time was), a small sleeveless blouse that left her smooth and slim belly 
exposed, baggy yet lightweight pants and small shoes that curled at the tips. 
Definitely wear that was to be expected of one who wanted to stay cool in
the heat of day.

     The thin material of the clothing Chelsea wore helped keep her body 
temperature at a comfortable degree but it didn't do much to hide her
not-inconsiderable attributes. However, the man wasn't exactly in the mood to 
conduct a more thorough visual examination of his latest "acquaintance" at the 
moment.

     *Definitely the makings of some kind of joke* the young man thought.

     "Haha," he muttered. "Very funny, Khal-Del. I don't know how you warped 
me here, into a hologram projection, but doing it while I'm commanding troops
is just typical of you..."

     Ignoring Chelsea's utterly befuddled expression, the man in dark blue 
took an object from one of the pockets on his suit and pressed a button on it.

     He blinked. Nothing happened. He tried again. It warranted the same 
effect of nothing happening. 

     "Remote Holo-deactivater must be on the fritz again..." he muttered 
darkly, returned his object and walked calmly towards the dungeon door. "I 
guess I'll have to go manual instead... *damn* that Khal-Del for making things
so damn inconvenient for me all the time..." He went up to the door and... 
amazingly enough... began to *speak* to it.

     "Computer... activate manual override protocol number 1152, authority of
High Commander Feyd Eugene Galit... terminate present program," he droned to
the door.

     A whole lot of nothing immediately occured.

     Feyd blinked. *Why isn't it responding?* he thought. *Maybe it needs a 
few more tries...*

     And as Feyd continued to talk to the dungeon door, Chelsea was letting 
her mind juices flow, forgetting to be angry at her guest's rudeness. It was
just too bizarre to feel angry at.

     Chelsea was a bright girl and it wasn't hard to do the math on this one. 
She had had more than her share of kid's fairytales and she almost considered 
herself an expert on the subject. So in less than half the time it takes for 
any anime woman to deck the source of an unwelcome pass, Chelsea was putting 
things together in her head... strange lamp... rubbed it...*foof*!... *really*
weird guy appears in front of her... and now he's talking to a door... hmmm...

     "Aha!" she exclaimed and pointed at the surprised Feyd who stopped 
speaking to the door at the girl's yelp.

     "You!" Chelsea breathed. "You're my genie!!!"

     There was a silence and Feyd would have sweatdropped, had he been the 
type to sweatdrop. He facefaulted instead.

     "Your... *what*???"


				     -*-


     Karl didn't feel he could get to the palace fast enough, no matter how he
tried to do so. But he had to lay low and keep from being seen by the palace 
guards who would surely recognize him. And even if they didn't, palace guards 
were known to try and apprehend *anyone* who they saw trying to sneak in the 
palace at night, whether they knew them or not. 

     Hiding and sneaking severely impeded his speed at getting to the palace 
and was annoyingly difficult to do but it *did* have its benefits. Like 
survival perhaps.

      He fixed his mask so that he could breath easier and decided on his next
course of action. Chelsea would most likely have what he had stolen. And she
wasn't where she usually was at that time of night so she had probably been
arrested. Because of him, one might add.

     Karl bit his lip guiltily. If it weren't for him, his close friend 
wouldn't have gotten involved and she wouldn't have been grabbed by the 
palace guards. Well, he was about to make the first step towards making it up 
to her. 

     First, he would find out where she was being kept, free her and in the 
process, get his loot as well. How hard could that be?

     Optimism prevented him from remembering that it was his failure to be 
sufficiently stealthy in the stealing of said loot that led to his losing it 
in the first place. It was just as well. Optimism was something he never ran 
out of anyway (though his mindset was a far cry from Chelsea's own).

     The (as of yet) unseen thief sneaked on.


				     -*-

 
     Feyd knew by now that he wasn't in any kind of hologram projection or any
virtual reality simulation. Everything seemed too real to be any of the two. 
It wasn't something created by a computer. It was *real*. Besides, it was much 
too odd to be either.
 
     Feyd Eugene Galit was, the last time he checked, the son of an evil 
overlord who waged war against an opposing empire of light. Feyd was High 
Commander of the deadliest army ever to be assembled for deep-space and 
surface combat. Feyd was a young man with a cold, calculating mind and a 
penchant for being ruthless and generally as unforgiving as anyone can be, 
even at his early age. But apparently, despite his attempt to explain it to 
her, he was something else entirely, according to an unbearably vivacious girl
inside a dungeon which he was now in by some twist of fate.

     "You're my genie!" Chelsea said in response to her companion's confusion.

     "Wait..." Feyd narrowed his eyes. This was just getting weirder and 
weirder... He folded his arms in the way he usually did when he was not happy 
(making it his most common stance).  "What exactly do you mean when you say 
I'm your genie?"

     "Well," Chelsea started, bouncing happily, clutching the lamp to her 
chest. "I rubbed this lamp and *you* showed up and now you're going to grant 
me my wishes, right?"

     Aha! Now they were getting somewhere...

     "That lamp?" Feyd stepped closer to see the lamp in question better. "Is
*that* what brought me here?" He looked to Chelsea for confirmation.

     "Yup!" Chelsea squealed, making Feyd wince a bit at its pitch. "It's a 
magic lamp that I found! And you're the genie that lives inside it!"

     She extended her hand (the free one) towards Feyd and closed her eyes, 
smiling. Feyd could almost *swear* that her eyelashes were curved UPWARDS when
closed...

     "My name is Chelsea!" the strange girl told Feyd. "Pleased to meet you!"

     Feyd glanced at the hand offered to him. Bah, if he was getting out of
there, he might as well play along a bit... 

     He took the proffered hand and shook it. "My name is Feyd Eugene Galit."

     "Feyd Eugene Galit," Chelsea said, trying the feel of it. "Pretty weird
name, but I guess that it's okay, since you're a genie and all... I didn't
even know that genies *had* names!" She giggled.

     Normally, Feyd would *never* have taken kindly to being told that he had a 
weird name. However, these were far from normal circumstances. He had to play 
his cards right if he wanted to find out what the !#$!? was going on...

     "Uh... yeah..." Feyd said flatly and cleared his throat. "Umm... listen..
would you mind handing me that lamp? I'd like to see it. It's been a long time
since I saw it, you know..." He mentally kicked himself for thinking up such a 
lame excuse but it was the best he could do, confronted with so much 
strangeness in such a short time. He tried smiling but it hurt too much so he
stopped. 

     "Um... no..." Chelsea said apologetically and hid the lamp behind her 
back, much to Feyd's chagrin. "You're my genie and if I gave you the lamp, 
you would disappear and I won't get to have my wishes come true anymore! I'm 
sorry."

     Her mischievous blue eyes however, told Feyd that she wasn't.

     Feyd folded his arms and closed his eyes. His eyebrows twitched 
spasmodically in controlled rage.  "You won't get to have any of your wishes 
come true at all because I am *not* a genie. I am Feyd Eugene Galit, High 
Commander of the Abomination Elite. That lamp is obviously some kind of 
teleporting device or time machine or dimensional transport or some other such
garbage." Feyd took a few steps closer to Chelsea. "I *need* to see it so that 
I can figure out what it does and get myself back home where I have a legion 
to command!"

     Chelsea put a hand to her mouth and giggled, her delicate shoulders 
shaking slightly from her suppressed laughter. "You're a funny genie..."

     Feyd gritted his teeth and edged even closer to the tittering girl, 
almost ready to lose his cool. "You're not listening to me... I am *not* a 
genie. I am a human being just like yourself... I cannot grant wishes save for
death wishes. I am also a particularly *nasty* human being and I will take 
that lamp by force if I have to!..." Feyd silenced, expecting Chelsea's 
terrified response.

     Chelsea opened her eyes and her face took on a curious look as she 
tilted her head a bit to the side as if to look at something in Feyd's face 
from a different angle. Feyd suddenly became uncomfortable but he stood his 
ground. Chelsea decided to take a closer look and stepped up to Feyd until her
face was mere inches from his own. 

     "...," the foreigner said. 

     Chelsea tilted her head the other way and her eyes narrowed. Feyd 
awaited to hear what she found so interesting.

     "Hmmm..." Chelsea muttered. "Feyd, did you know that with your eyes wide 
open and you looking confused like that and with longer hair, you'd look
like a girl?"

     This time, Feyd *did* sweatdrop.

     "You're kind of cute too," Chelsea added, eyes closed in her innocent 
delight.


				     -*-


     
     The stalking Karl found what he was looking for: the location of his loot
and the girl in possession of it. Quickly and silently, he followed the guard
who was going to see what all the noise was about down to the underground 
dungeons.



				     -*-


     Chelsea was skipping about from the prospect of having a genie as a
servant and Feyd was seriously considering his earlier threat of taking the 
lamp by ungentlemanly means when the door to the cell suddenly opened to admit
a large guard holding a wicked looking scimitar.

     "What's all this noise about?" the guard roared. 

     "Oh wow!" Chelsea squealed once again, obviously excited. "I can get to 
try out my new genie now!" 

     She turned to face Feyd. "Genie, I wish for you to beat that guy up!" She
looked at Feyd expectantly.

     Feyd stared back. "I don't feel like it."

     Chelsea's eyes widened in disbelief. "But you're my genie!" she wailed. 
"You're *supposed* to follow my orders... aren't you?"

     "Then what if I'm *not* a genie?" Feyd asked her, raising an eyebrow at
the frustrated girl.

     Chelsea pouted at her servant's retort. "You're a mean genie, Feyd."

     Feyd was about to repeat the fact that he was *not* a genie when he was
interrupted by the guard who was alarmed to find an unidentified armored man 
inside one of his prisoner's cells.

     "You're trying to help the girl escape!" the guard yelled. "You will die 
for your foolishness!!!" He swung his weapon in the direction of Feyd's head.

     Feyd looked at the guard from his discussion with Chelsea and managed to 
dodge the blow. He had been able to hold his temper under control so far but 
that move just about exhausted his patience.

     "That's it..." Feyd hissed and stomped towards the guard. "*Nobody* 
swings a sword at me and lives to tell about it!..."

     The guard was just about to repeat his previous swing but the angered
High Commander reached him first. With the help of a really nifty strength-
enhancing function of the suit, Feyd parried the sword-wielding arm with his 
left hand and gave the guard a quick, almost lightning-fast jab to the belly 
which had spectacular results. The guard was sent crashing into the dungeon 
door which he had closed behind him and it shattered under his weight. The 
guard wasn't dead but he was much too unconscious to carry out his previous 
intent of making Feyd dead.

     Feyd glanced at the fallen guard, folded his arms and closed his eyes. He
looked rather cool this way as Chelsea ran up to him. "Wow!!! That was 
incredible!" Chelsea squealed her delight. "So you *did* fulfill my wish after 
all!! Thanks, Feyd!"

     Feyd opened his mouth to say something but stopped as running steps could
be heard approaching the cell.

     "Chelsea!!!" a voice shouted from outside. "It's me, Karl!!! I came to 
save.."

     Karl slid to a stop in front of the broken door and surveyed the KOed 
guard and the shattered door.

     "... you?..." he finished, although in a much smaller voice. And then he 
noticed the armored person standing beside Chelsea.

     The two men regarded each other warily. Feyd had a bored expression on
his face but was already evaluating the newcomer's potential as a threat. Karl
was just as suspicious of Feyd and his dark eyes watched for any sudden or
unfriendly movements. They matched each other in terms of height and build. 
The thief looked the military officer in the eyes. Feyd returned the gesture.

     "Hi, Karl!!!" Chelsea waved and tugged at Feyd's armor sleeve to pull him
with her as she ran to Karl. "Meet my new friend! His name's Feyd!"


				     -*-

      A hooded figure watched as about twenty guards stormed into the palace 
doors. Momentarily, two young men and a young girl came out from their hiding
place behind one of the doors and ran for the gates.	

     "Let's follow them," the small voice suggested to the hooded figure.

     "That genie looks dangerous..." the hooded figure said. He was looking 
out of a window in the palace at the fugitives.

     "You really should listen to me once in a while," the voice told him. 
"Why do you think I was put here?"

     "To punish me for my sins?" the hooded figure said tonelessly.

     "Well yeah, that too," the voice admitted. "But mostly, I'm here to do 
your thinking for you! Now do you want that lamp back or not? Follow those 
three!"

     The hooded figure sighed. Being a *mildly* scizophrenic sorcerer could be
a pain sometimes.  At least he would never get lonely...



				     -*-


     The three had escaped the rest of the palace guards using Karl's route in 
and were now in the less-populated area of the city, inside an abandoned brick
house. Now that they were a safe distance from the palace, the three could 
resume formalities.  Karl was introduced to Feyd. And then Chelsea told Karl 
who Feyd was.

     What followed immediately was a perfect example of close-knit and 
efficient communication, albeit in the sarcastic sense.

     "Feyd's your *what*!?" Karl exclaimed, not believing his ears.

     "My genie!" Chelsea offered.

     "Your genie?" Karl facefaulted.

     "Yup!" Chelsea yupped.

     "I'm no such thing." Feyd put in.

     "Then you *aren't* her genie?" Karl demanded.

     "Yes." Feyd confirmed.

     "No! He is *too* my genie!" Chelsea whined.

     Karl sweatdropped. "Okay, okay... where exactly did Feyd come from?"
 
     The supposed genie and his supposed owner spoke at the same time.

     "The lamp!" Chelsea said/squealed.

     "Fort Nynhand in Ghedon B outside of the Dogstar system." Feyd told Karl 
with surety.

     Karl blinked. He looked, first at the young girl who had been his friend 
for many years and then at the strange person in dark blue armor whom he had 
just met and frankly didn't like very much. He opted for Chelsea's 
explanation. "Okay then, Feyd's a genie."

     Feyd threw his hands up in the air in exasperation as Chelsea jumped up 
and down in delight.

     "Isn't it cool?" she inquired of Karl.

     "I guess..." he said, now unsure. "So that lamp I filched *wasn't* just 
your everyday expensive antique?"

     "Apparently not!" Chelsea chirped, her delight over having a genie still 
not having worn off yet.		

     Karl scratched his head. It was still damn confusing. But at least, he 
had some sort of explanation. He'd have to settle for it. "Well, I'm not 
really sure what's going on... but at least we're all here safe and sound."

     Karl found a sizable piece of rubble and sat down on it. Feyd leaned on a
wall, folded his arms and closed his eyes. He appeared to be thinking deeply. 
Or sulking. Chelsea smiled at her two companions. Only Karl smiled back. 

     He stretched. "And I don't know about you guys... but I'm beat."

     Chelsea looked at him and then noticed her own weariness as well. "Yeah,"
she yawned. "I guess we *should* be getting some sleep right about now..."

     Feyd had other ideas. "I am *not* going to sleep until someone has 
explained to me what the hell is going on!" He swung his head in their 
direction. "I want some answers, damn it!"

     Chelsea disregarded this and latched on to his arm. "Oh, come on, Feyd. 
Let's rest already. We're all pretty tired."

     Feyd facefaulted and looked at the girl holding on to his arm. He 
considered prying her off, thought better of it and sighed. Now that they 
mentioned it, he *was* getting pretty tired himself...

     Feyd covered his mouth as he yawned. He noted Karl who was still 
standing in front of him. "Well?"

     Karl shifted a bit. "You won't be getting inside your lamp?" he 
queried.

     Feyd sweatdropped. "No, I'll be sleeping out here, thank you. And where 
will *you* be?"

     "Around," Karl said and left it at that. The two regarded each other 
again.

     "Well," Karl said finally. "Since you're a genie, I guess I won't have to
worry about you and Chelsea staying here alone."

     Feyd blinked and reddened the slightest bit. "What!? What did you mean by
tha-..?" But Karl was gone.

     "Idiot..." Feyd spat. He glanced over at Chelsea who was already dozing 
while holding on to Feyd's sleeve. Feyd sighed yet again. There was still the 
chance that his being here was all some sort of dream and if he slept now, he 
would awaken back in his fortress cubicle.

     Yeah, that was it. He must have been knocked unconscious in battle and
this was all some kind of hallucination and he would soon be out of it. When
he slept, it would be all over...

     Soon, Feyd was sitting against a wall with Chelsea still clinging to his 
arm, asleep. He leaned against the wall and thought about how he just couldn't
wait to get home. 

     He glanced over at Chelsea's sleeping face, serene and almost immaculate. 
There was something endearing about her impeccably happy attitude. Feyd felt 
that this hallucination wasn't really all *that* annoying... actually, it was a
welcome change from commanding his troops, crushing enemy formations 
and being evil all the time...

     Feyd nodded off with that thought in his mind.


				     -*-


     "This is your chance," the voice told the hooded sorcerer. "Go get your 
lamp and your genie!..."

     "What if they wake up?" the sorcerer asked from his hiding place. 
"There's two of them and you're inside of me. I don't like those odds..."

     "They won't wake up. Nothing will happen," the voice said. "Trust me."

     The hooded figure sneaked in the building and catwalked towards the two
sleeping figures. He reached out a hand towards Chelsea...


				     -*-


     Even if it was probably just a hallucination, it made sense to play it 
safe. Feyd had activated his perimeter force field around himself and 
Chelsea... just in case anyone tried anything funny that night.


				     -*-


     It took all of the hooded figure's willpower just not to scream bloody 
murder as several volts of electricity raced up his arm and electrocuted his 
entire body as it made strong KKZZZZZZTTT!!! sounds. 

     With a yank, he pulled his hand away and collapsed on the floor.

     "Nothing would happen you said," the hooded figure complained weakly. 
"Trust me, you said... yeah, right..."

     "S-shut up..." the small voice said, sounding weak as well.

     The figure got up and limped towards the door. Before he left, he gave 
the two who slept through the whole thing a final look. "But I *shall* be back
for my treasure! Make no mistake! It *will* be mine or my name isn't..."

     "Will you quit it, Wynn?" the small voice chided him. "I've got a hell of
a headache... Let's go home..."

     There was no argument from Wynn and they disappeared into the night.


				     -*-


     Chelsea's eyes fluttered open as her body clock told her that it was 
already morning. She yawned and sat up to look around and find out where she 
was. It was the same place she slept most nights. However, she just realized, 
last night wasn't like most nights.

     She whirled her head around to find her genie. "Feyd! Feyd? Where are 
you?"

     She stood up and ran over to the door. She stuck her head outside to see 
if he was there. Only a few people were in the street as traffic was light in 
that part of town. Karl was nearby, leaning against the doorway, hands behind 
his head in a resting position.

     He glanced over at Chelsea. "Oh, you're awake. How was your sleep?"

     Chelsea rubbed one of her eyes. "Fine, fine..." she said absently and 
returned inside. No Feyd anywhere. And Karl didn't seem any different. It was 
as if none of it had happened... 	

      *Yeah, it was probably just a great dream.* Chelsea thought and 
stretched. *None of it really happened...*

     *But what if it was real?* she thought wistfully. *It would have been 
great...*

     She felt something in her clothes and felt it to see what it was. She 
brought out the lamp that was the cause of it all. That was strange. If she 
had the lamp... It gave her a hunch. She gave the lamp a few rubs.

      Nothing happened. Chelsea sighed. *Well, what did I expect?* she 
reproached herself and started walking towards the door. *For my genie to just
appear here like magi-...*

     There was a flash from behind her and she stopped dead in her tracks. She 
turned around and the sight that she saw made her jump for joy and run towards
the man who had just appeared.

     Feyd spun his head left and right, taking in his surroundings. He was 
back. The soft arms that circled around his neck and hugged him hard confirmed
his conclusion.

     "Oh, Feyd!!!" Chelsea cried. "I thought you were gone!!!"

     Feyd groaned. "Oh... no..."

     Karl peeped in and grinned. "Oh, hey, Feyd. You're back from your lamp, I
see..."

     "Oh, NO!..." Feyd groaned even louder.

     Apparently, he had been summoned along with half of his breakfast table 
from his fortress as well. Karl sat down on one side and helped himself to a 
glass of juice.

     Feyd closed his eyes and began to mutter to himself. "Steady Feyd... 
steady... they said you had disappeared without warning and they found you in 
the battlefield... they said it was some kind of teleportation weapon from the
other side... relax, Feyd... when you open your eyes, you will NOT be in a
desert city... there are NO brick houses and palm trees... and there 
definitely will be NO brash thief and hyperactive girl who think you're a 
genie!...." He opened his eyes.

     "I didn't know you liked oranges, Feyd!" Karl said in between a mouthful.

     "We're gonna have the bestest time, Feyd, Karl!" Chelsea squealed and 
hugged Feyd's neck even tighter.

     Feyd put his forehead on the tabletop and started pounding.


				     -*-


WHAT HAPPENED TODAY?
	> Wynn bungled the lamp spell!
	> The lamp was changed in strange, fun ways!
	> Karl stole the lamp from Wynn!
	> Chelsea summoned Feyd!
	> Wynn tried and failed to get his lamp back!
	> Feyd disappeared in the night and came back!
	> You've just read Genie! Part One!

WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT TIME? THAT'S FOR YOU TO DECIDE! SIGN UP! WAI! WAI!


				     -*-

Author's Notes (my favorite part! Wai!):

     Does this strike you as strange? That wouldn't surprise me. It strikes ME
as strange, so why should YOU be any different? Hehe...

     This was NOT inspired by the song "Genie in a Bottle" by Christina 
Aguilera, this was NOT inspired by the old anime Time Quest (though I borrowed
a few elements), this was NOT inspired by Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventures 
and the first person to mention Disney's Alladin will be tied to a chair and 
forced to watch said series for three straight days.

     Comments? Criticisms? Wanna hate me for making such a short event into 
one excruciatingly long and pointless story? E-mail me, fellow scum!

madsthebeast@eudoramail.com
amadeoiii@eudoramail.com 


***

YOU MAY LEAVE NOW, UNLESS YOU'RE *REALLY* BORED 

     What *did* inspire this mass of weirdness?  Nothing in particular. The 
idea was born one day and just grew and GREW. Until it grew enough to prompt 
me into writing it, just to see how bad it would look on paper. 

     Well, here it is, Genie! in all its senseless glory. And all I can say 
is...

LOOPHOLES GALORE!!!

     Why do djinns have to be bound to lamps? Well, nobody ELSE ever tried to 
explain the existence of magic lamps, even in the fairytales, so I made up my 
own. How come the roc? Hey, I had to have SOME way of showing that the place 
was not Earth... at least, not the one we know... Why does Feyd understand 
Chelsea's language? Hell, I dunno. Translator? Wynn's magic? (shrug) It 
depends, I guess. Why did Feyd disappear in the night? Uh... time limit? It 
happens at random because of the lamp? I had an explanation, but it would have
stretched the thing *really* long... and I was out of time. (sheepish grin) 
Why did Feyd's table get summoned too? Well, my initial idea concerned the 
fact that technology would seem like magic to more primitive people. How the 
heck can Feyd have his toys if the lamp didn't bring along with Feyd anything 
that it felt like (like random machinery from the 31st century; KARL: What 
does THIS button do? FEYD: NOOO!!! *BOOM!!!*)? Why did I make Feyd evil (or 
SORT of evil)? It would be no fun if the genie didn't have to be persuaded to 
make wishes come true now, would it? How the hell can Feyd be convinced to 
obey? He and karl's got some kind of rivalry going on (hint, hint)... a little
reverse psychology from our wily thief and VOILA! Feyd equals genie! 

     What I'm trying to present here is that the lamp is the center of a LOT 
of random magic and summoning and who knows what else? The characters are 
plenty weird by themselves. Hell, Chelsea could be the only character and the
thing would STILL be pretty weird!

     Finally, if you'll notice, I put some effort into presenting Feyd (and 
possibly even Karl) as bishounens without actually using the word! 

     "Idiot, now your effort has been for naught!"
     "Huh? What do you mea-... OH..."

     This thing was SO rushed that I'll be lucky if I get it preread by even 
ONE person other than myself.

     What could happen next? Wynn tries to grab the lamp?... someone ELSE 
tries to grab the lamp?... Chelsea gets kidnapped?... One of Feyd's toys lands
on the wrong hands?... It's anyone's call.

     Oh, and if by some miracle, this gets voted in, I'll expect most of these
author's notes to be snipped off. Hell, I'd like the WHOLE author's notes to 
be snipped off! I don't think there's anything here that would help anyone 
any. Okay... maybe the part above the *** could be left in. Bleh.

     Godspeed! ^_^