Friends ’til the End

[WP] “O the Master who commands me, thou wishes shall be granted. But only when thou can complete these trials four before the next full moon: drinking, smoking, thievery and murder.”

“Oh really?” she asks, looking contemplative. “How many wishes do I get?”

The imp like creature has a long tail and sits upright like a gargoyle on a ledge, his wings tucked behind his shoulders. “Master may get three wishes before Simoan’s alter vanishes, requiring it to be refound anew.”

“Oh, so it’s like Dragon Balls…is there any sort of cooldown on this? Like a break before you can be found again?”

“Simoan knows not of these dragon’s balls but wishes can begin right away, should Simoan’s alter be found.”

She smiles at that. “That’s pretty handy. Do I have a time limit on making these wishes or a limit on what questions I can ask?”

“No master! Simoan is loyal servant until wishes are all gone”

“What counts as finding you?”

“Whenever thy learns of Simoan’s exact alter location, Simoan is thy servant. Even if another finds Simoan’s alter, Simoan can not be seen by anyone but master, so none can ask anything of Simoan.”

She’s crossing her arms and tapping her foot as she nods to herself. “That’s really good, actually. Is there a limit on your wish powers? Like are there wishes you can’t grant.”

“Simoan does not know of such wishes. Simoan’s power was bequeathed by a dying god so Simoan can do anything god could do. Simoan just can’t do those things for Simoan’s self, has to do it for master.”

“What about consequences? Sometimes wishes can have negative side effects.”

Simoan frowns at the question. “Master has dark thoughts. Simoan only gives what master asks of Simoan, no tricks or surprises.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get melodramatic. I think I’ve got most of what I need to know. Let’s head into town. I have to pick up a few things and then there’s a debate going on this evening that I’d like to attend.”

After stopping at a package store, her next stop is a local community center. She’s wearing her black, military style boots, the same ones she usually wears when she plans to get up to no good. With shorts and a leather jacket, she saunters up to the front door where two security guards await her. She pulls the cigar out of her mouth and blows smoke their way. They scowl at her but don’t otherwise respond. “Guys, you realize it’s night out, right? What’s with the shades? Looking to star in an upcoming terminator movie?”

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to put out that cigar. There’s no smoking inside.”

“You can call me Jessica,” she says, looking to the side.

“Ok, Jessica there’s–“

Jessica scowls at the guard, then walks over to put her cigar out on his lapel. “I wasn’t talking to you robocop,” her words being accented by puffs of smoke as she exhales.

The guard unlaces his hands and brushes at the singed place on his coat. “Are you kidding me?” He quickly points to the brown paper bag in her other hand. “There’s no alcohol on the premises either. You have to get rid of that before you can enter.”

She pulls the brown sack away to reveal a clear glass bottle with a crooked Coke label. “Easy spaz. It’s just soda. You can keep the bag though.” She plants the sack on his chest and pats it as she walks by and into the community center.

Jessica catches the end of the debate and then follows one of the politicians as he heads into the bathroom. He’s at the sink, washing his hands as she turns to flip a latch on the door.

She pulls out another cigar as she walks over to him, pointing with it as she pinches it between her thumb and index. “You’re a cigar guy, right?”

The politician laughs, uneasily. “Ugh miss, I think you might be in the wrong room.”

She waves away the suggestion. “Ah, it’s fine. I was hoping you could just help me with a light.”

He pulls out a silver-plated zippo and nods. “I can’t say that I condone you smoking in the boys room…” He pauses and smiles at that. “But I can’t say anything against your taste in smokes.” She takes a swig from her bottle which no longer has a label. He sniffs, curiously. “Is that rum?”

She shakes her head before leaning in for a light. “Nah, just soda.”

He chuckles as he lights her cigar. She tokes on it, leans back, and looks at it before nodding in approval. “Say, you always have that lighter on you. I see you flipping the lid on it a lot during interviews. It must be important to you.”

He looks at it with appreciation and smiles. “That it is.”

“Must be a story there. Mind if I have it?”

“Well, that’s kind of personal.”

“No, I mean the lighter.”

His smile fades and shakes his head. “I’m sorry miss but that’s out of the question.”

“Good,” she says nodding. She cracks the bottle over the sink’s ledge, shoves it into his neck, and twists. “Your policies suck by the way.” His shocked gaze fixates on her as she pries the lighter from his grasp. He slides to the floor in a growing pool of blood as she unlocks the bathroom door, then departs the restroom.

She looks down at Simoan as they walk down the hall. “That covers everything right?”

Simoan nods. “Master is free to make wishes.”

She nods. “Good. I–” She pauses and braces against the wall to restore her balance.”

“Master Jessica didn’t have to drink so much to satisfy drinking trial.”

“What can I say, I’m a fan of dark rum.” She continues walking down the hall. “Oh, one other thing…what’s your knowledge like? Can you know of current times or trends?”

Simoan nods. “Simoan knows all these things.”

“Good, here’s my first wish: I wish you would update your language. No one around here talks that way so pick something more modern. If you’re going to be my companion indefinitely, constantly talking about yourself in 3rd person is going to get annoying fast…it’s actually already annoying me a bit.”

Simoan slouches forward, reaches up and drags his palm down his face. “Really darlin? You would waste a wish on that? Might as well’ve wished for pigs to fly or for frogs not to bump their ass every time they jump.”

She laughs, then covers her mouth with the back of her wrists. “Sarcasm to boot? That’s hilarious. Here,” she says, extending a piece of paper to him.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“It’s a latitude, longitude and elevation. Can you pinpoint that?”

“God powers.” He stretches out the words as if talking to someone slow to catch on. “Yes, I can determine exactly where this is. Why? Are you about to waste some other wish on something stupid like filling your bedroom with sugar and rainbows?”

She laughs again. “Maybe next time. “Instead, I wish for you to bind your alter so that it always reappears in this location.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded, then shakes his head. “Why hadn’t any of the previous dipshits thought of that? Here I was thinking you were going to waste them all on nonsense.”

“Yeah, yeah. You adore me and I’m brilliant and all that. For the third wish: I wish you would undo all the effects of my trials without undoing my ability to make wishes.” Simoan’s mouth drops open as she turns to walk towards an exit sign. She throws a piece sign over her shoulder. “See you at the apartment.” She shoves open a door and departs the building. Simoan stands there, shocked. A door opens behind him and he turns to see the politician leaving the bathroom as he flips a zippo’s lid open and closed.