Ruin A Wish

[averyimaginativename]

Granted, but it looks you straight in the eye, and...

I wish I hadn't decided my first campaign should have ~50 scenarios, and somebody else would finish the damn thing for me.

[Great_Mage_Atari]

Granted. I do it for you and it rocks socks.

I wish somebody would help me with why my slime changes shades halfway through an attack!

[powershot]

Granted.

I wish they had more art contributors on this forum.

[Great_Mage_Atari]

Granted, but because you really didn't grant my wish, you have bad voodoo, and you therefore don't get your wish just because.

I wish red was blue and green was yellow.

[powershot]

Granted, the Wesnoth magenta machine gets so mixed up Wesnoth breaks and we can't live without it.

I wish for money, and alot of it(have fun ruining this one ).

[Great_Mage_Atari]

Granted. You blow it all on Yahoo stocks.

I wish for a beard.

[powershot]

Granted, but the barber shaves it off by accident(I mean, how old are you to want a beard? ).

I wish for sweet and sour sesame chicken. (Yum!)

[Great_Mage_Atari]

Granted. It's just sour.

I wish or a burger.

[8680]

Granted, but the or operator turns out to be lazy, and thus you do not get a burger.

I wish I wasn't going bald.

[Great_Mage_Atari]

Granted. You don't go bald, you automatically become bald.

I wish I had a left arm (another one).

[8680]

Granted. You awake in the night to find that you have an extra arm. You go back to sleep, not bothering your tired brain with concerns over your new appendage. This turns out to be quite a horrible mistake, however, as this additional limb is actually an alien parasite. Half an hour after you resume your slumber, the arm detaches itself from your torso. You again waken, this time by the arm forcing itself down your throat and into your stomach, rupturing your esophagus, trachea, larynx, jugular vein, and carotid arteries in the process. As you lay drowning in your own blood, with the arm writhing in your abdomen, unable to scream because of your rent larynx, you fervently rue making that Yechnagoth-spawned wish on Wesnoth Forums. Moments before all thoughts depart it forever, the old apothegm “Be careful what you wish for” flashes through your mind. During the night, the arm reproduces, forming new copies of itself from the flesh of your still-warm corpse. The new arms continue their progenitor's destructive journey through your digestive tract, soon emerging to crawl out of your bed and across the floor to the bedroom door. Having smashed a hole in this and other unfortunate portals, the arms spread through your house and immediate environs, infecting your family and neighbors and breeding in their cadavers. The next morning, as sunlight envelops the riven, bloody carcasses, they begin to stir.... Months later, though the arm-zombie plague has spread across the entire planet and to many other species, there is still a faint spark of hope: the last residua of human civilization have coalesced upon a forbidding mountaintop, refurbished a World War IV-era precision orbital bombardment satellite network control complex, and prepared for humanity's last stand. Will this spark reignite the torch of civilization, to be passed on to the next generation, or will it be quietly blown out by the winds of apocalypse? Will the guy with the mysterious ability to roll back time to avoid unwanted outcomes preside over the new society after saving it, or vanish into the wilds, to be found in future legends as the protector of adventurers and wanderers through dangerous lands? And if the hero takes charge of the new society, what kind of society will it be? The player must decide... if anyone (e.g. me) ever makes a campaign out of this.

I wish for a pair of magical (or sufficiently advanced technology) glasses that, besides giving me perfect vision in all spectra and functioning only for me, work as a computer with unlimited speed, memory, and battery life and can create impenetrable walls of force (probably electromagnetic, but it doesn't really matter as long as the level of control is high enough).

Whew... that took me nearly an hour and a half.

[Great_Mage_Atari]

Granted. It makes you watch Rebecca Black continuously on YouTube forever... and ever... and ever...

I wish that Obama was cooler...

[Colouredbox]

Granted, now he is Dj Obama.

I wish for a glass of water.

[Great_Mage_Atari]

Granted. It is laced with cyanide.

I wish for raspberry lemonade.

[Crendgrim]

[...] the last residua of human civilization have coalesced upon a forbidding mountaintop, refurbished a World War IV-era precision orbital bombardment satellite network control complex, and prepared for humanity's last stand. [...]

Ha! And Einstein was right: WW IV will be fought with sticks!