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Jean groggily wakes up from her nap with a splitting headache. She hasn't had a headache this bad since the 1800's, when a drunken wizard sealed her in a bottle of brandy. Fun time while in there, but always filled her with an immediate hangover when released from the bottle, which is a terrible Pavlovian reaction towards her opinion of humans asking for wishes. Entitled bastards...

Jean then blinks the tears from the headache from her eyes and sits up to find out what all that noise is, and looks up to find herself in the middle of a large mall. Once again, Jean blinked, only to see if she's really seeing what she thinks she's seeing. Looking around, Jean notices that she's smack-dab in the middle of a mall intersection, lines of human stores going down long stretches on all four sides of her. A few humans are looking at her, talking to each other and making gestures towards her, but others just walk on by, as if it's normal to have a bright blue-skinned djinn in purple harem clothing at (according to the skylight above Jean) midday.

Speaking of attire, Jean takes note of her apparel, because, believe it or not, they too can decide on what clothes they want to wear. It's not like they have to adorn the poofy see-through pants and wrist shackles, as stereotypes in human media have you believe, and is somewhat racist towards djinni kind. Now, however, Jean is wearing the most blatant example of sexy genie stereotype. She is indeed wearing royal purple poofy see-through harem pants, and highlights her smooth long legs through the fabric, and arcing into a curved 'v' over her cute behind, in what Jean can only describe as "butt cleavage". Her dainty feet have been stuffed in gold heels, about 4-inch in height and open-toed. her midriff is exposed, revealing a sparkling ruby in her belly button, which Jean is positively sure was NEVER there before. Jean's top is of the same purple-lined-with-gold as her pants, showing her pink nipples in silhouette on her D sized perky bust, formed into a tube top vest, with purple frills that loop around her arms.

Jean's silken flowing hair has been shackled into a gold band, forming a ponytail high on the back of her head (highlighting her long pointy ears with heart earrings), and flowing all the way to her wide hourglass waist. Jean feels her forehead and feels a circlet, with tiny string chains running into her hair and framing her face, which is caked in purple eyeshadow, bright red lipstick, and (thankfully) her naturally red pupils in her eyes. Looking at her wrists, dreading the obvious, Jean sees the telltale mark of an imprisoned genie, gold chainless shackles.

She starts panicking, and looks around for anyone that may have a container nearby, anyone that looks particularly wizardlike, but sees nobody that might fit that descriptor. Jean rations that they must've forgotten to stow her inside; A big mistake, as she is free to hoof it and wait it out for about a week for the enchantment to all wear off. Jean moves as fast as she can towards an opening in the crowd to make her escape, but crashes headfirst into...something?

Jean, after massaging her face from the impact, recovers and looks around where she was running, and spots the shine from the sun reflecting off the transparent wall that she has collided face-first into. Looking around closely, Jean unfortunately surmises that she's trapped inside a transparent box, so clear you'd swear there was once a giant mime living inside. The best that Jean can see, she is stuck in a 20ft. cubed box at floor level, with very little to show that it is there, besides a pedestal at one end, and a sign at all four sides. Luckily, the signs are transparent, revealing the backwards writing to her. Jean groans at the swirly, magiclike typeface used for it, and physically recoiled at what she read;

"Jean the Magic Genie! $10 to make her do anything within her booth, even transform herself! She loves being humiliated, so have fun!"

Jean then looks at the pedestal, noticing the mechanical bill and coin slots on the top of it. Jean thinks to herself, Oh no, no-no-no-no! The bastard who did this bound me to a payment machine?! This is horrible! Not only will I never escape because of the intensity it'll be used, but I'll be the laughingstock back home- no, the WHOLE friggin' Plane of Air will be whirling in laughter when they find out!

Before she panics any further, she notices a figure in the corner of her eye approaching the pedestal, cash in hand. Jean audibly gulps, and braces herself for what happens next.

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THE BOX By Hungry Guy Gail drove down the quiet suburban street on a Thursday evening and pulled into a driveway of a house that looked like a cookie-cutter image of all the others in the neighborhood. She picked up her clipboard and glanced at the couple in the back seat of her car. "This home is right in your price range, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. It has a finished basement, and two large bedrooms." The woman in the back glanced at her husband and said "Looks okay from the outside. ...

The Box

It started out as a room. Cindy stood in the center of the room. A tight, leather cuff encircled each wrist. A tight, leather shackle encircled each ankle. The chains dangled from the ceiling and the floor. Holding her arms up, widespread, over her head. Holding her legs far apart. Cindy wasn't sure what else was in the room. Constantly, she heard Linda's voice. Commanding her to sleep. Commanding her to obey. Commanding her to watch the lights. The pretty, flashing lights. They sparkled....

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