I shook the bottle harder and the water bubbled, going a murky green. A queasy green, like public toilet splashes after St Patricks day. I swallowed hard, it had been a long time since my last drink, even longer since my last meal. "Please be a genie," I whispered. The stuff in the bottle settled, and I wondered what it was. It looked better than the last bottle of rotgut I had stolen from the old man. He didn’t need it, he was close to death anyway. I sniffed and wiped my nose on his jacket. He hadn’t needed that either when I had finished with him.

I cracked the top of the bottle off, smashing it against the skip. If it was a genie, I wouldn’t have to sleep in there again. "No sirree mister, it's gunna be soft beds and a bathtub of booze for me."  The bottle grew warm in my hands, and an awful smelling mist came out, swirling around my head. When I stopped coughing the mist had cleared and a tiny ugly creature stood in front of me. He was dressed what looked like a red santa suit.

"My first wish is..." I started.

"I am not a genie of wishes, fool." He snarled, showing green fangs.

"What are you then? I want what’s coming to me, I released you." He wasn’t going to get away, I grabbed his skinny arm. "Three wishes, or I will stuff you back in that bottle in little tiny pieces."

"I give three things, not what you wish for but what you deserve." He licked his lips with a long forked tongue. "So, have you been naughty or nice?"