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I Prefer Cash
Jan. 11th, 2006 10:18 amI was having a nice group dinner last night, and a friend of a friend paid for everyone. She always does, really. She's rich, but never talks about her work. I finally asked Molly (her name is Molly) what she did for a living.
"I'm a wish consultant," she explained, "When someone gets a wish, they usually squander it. They make a wish that can be twisted in intent, or they forget a vital loophole. I help write the wishes so that doesn't happen. I make simple, complete, unambiguous wishes which can't be twisted or avoided. It's one part rhetoric, one part linguistics, and about six parts experience based on wishes that went wrong in the past. I also do contracts with otherworldly powers, instructions for mindless minions, and sometimes even well-worded curses."
Everyone seemed impressed.
"Honestly," she said humbly, "three-quarters of my clients are deluded. They see a funny-shaped potato and think it'll get them a wish. It's sad. I can't guarantee that the wish is granted - just that it's well-formed. It was hard to get a reputation that's good enough that people seek me out and hire me, but I'm proud of where I am. It's great work, but it's really hard to connect with such a diverse market."
"Do you ever accept a cut of the wishes in lieu of payment?" I asked.
"Once in a while, but I have to be sure it's not one of the funny-shaped potato people first, so usually I just take cash. Thanks to commissioned wishes, I don't age anymore, and bullets can't pierce my skin, but, to tell the truth, I prefer cash."
"I'm a wish consultant," she explained, "When someone gets a wish, they usually squander it. They make a wish that can be twisted in intent, or they forget a vital loophole. I help write the wishes so that doesn't happen. I make simple, complete, unambiguous wishes which can't be twisted or avoided. It's one part rhetoric, one part linguistics, and about six parts experience based on wishes that went wrong in the past. I also do contracts with otherworldly powers, instructions for mindless minions, and sometimes even well-worded curses."
Everyone seemed impressed.
"Honestly," she said humbly, "three-quarters of my clients are deluded. They see a funny-shaped potato and think it'll get them a wish. It's sad. I can't guarantee that the wish is granted - just that it's well-formed. It was hard to get a reputation that's good enough that people seek me out and hire me, but I'm proud of where I am. It's great work, but it's really hard to connect with such a diverse market."
"Do you ever accept a cut of the wishes in lieu of payment?" I asked.
"Once in a while, but I have to be sure it's not one of the funny-shaped potato people first, so usually I just take cash. Thanks to commissioned wishes, I don't age anymore, and bullets can't pierce my skin, but, to tell the truth, I prefer cash."
