The girls quickly finished changing, completely forgetting about the crushed bug that lay on the ground. Each time that Nick regained consciousness; one of their massive feet came down, accidently squishing him once again. First it was Shannon, who crushed him using only her socks, then his sister crushed him under her heavy snow boots.

This went on for a little while, until the girls had all changed and left the locker room. After the last girl left, Nick popped back into his normal fly form, unhurt, and undamaged.

He gave a sigh of relief that nothing worse had happened. Then he smiled, recalling all the good that had accrued. He pictured Shannon’s breasts again, those lovely, warm, comforting, bags of goodness that he had the great pleasure of being pressed against. The tiniest bits of sweat dripping down from the period before, the way they jiggled as she moved, like the two sexiest bowls of Jell-O in existence. It might have been the greatest moment of his life so far.

“You alright down there small fly?” Macle called down. “Get it? Instead of small fry I said fly!” Nick looked back up at the boy sitting on the ledge of the locker above.

“Hey!” he called, “Why did you scare me like that!” Macle shrugged.

“I had to tell you something, so I popped in.”

“And why didn’t anyone else see you?” Nick continued in as angry a voice a fly could manage, which wasn’t very convincing since it came out as a high pitched squeak.

“Magic demon,” Macle replied with a smile. “It means I can do whatever I want.”

“Well then why did you come here?”

“Straight to the point, don’t you want to chat for a bit?”

“Not really.”

“Ugh…” Macle moaned as he hopped down from his perch. “Everyone’s always in a rush. Can’t stop for five seconds and talk, oh no. Got places to be, things to see, girls to perve out.”

“Hey!” the fly cut in. “I was never going to do anything more than look until you showed up!”

“Right. I believe you. No really, I do.”

“Go to hell.”

“First let me say what I’ve come to say.” Nick tried to give his most impatient and annoyed look, but being a fly, the effect was lost. After a moment of awkward silence, Macle chose to continue. “I found out that your wish has been deemed expectable to change, on the condition that your new wish be thoroughly thought out first, as it will have a far lower chance of being revoked if you manage to mess that one up to.”

“So I can make a new wish whenever?” Nick said hurriedly and happily. He was enjoying his time as an immortal bug, but being human held more appeal to him.

“No, try to listen this time. You can make a new wish after you have thoroughly thought it out first,” Macle replied with a hint of condescension.

“And what counts as thoroughly thought out?”

Macle shrugged. “I don’t know, bug boy. Just give it some thought.”

“Fine,” Nick relied, a bit irritated. All of this wasn’t even his fault! “Who reviews and manages these wishes anyway?”

The actual process of wish making is a long and drawn out series of events that very few people in the world understand. Its starts with one supernatural being, in this case the snail. It is actually important to note that this snail was in fact no ordinary snail, but the mighty lord TruckZot, banished from his own dying planet by the shadow artist twilight during the Olympus exploration, extermination, and recovery operation. This, as we all know, being the direct result of our good friend Macle taking it upon himself to intervene in the second galactic war on peace, complicating the normally simple mission to new, previously inconceivable heights of difficulty. The tale has been recorded and re-told countless times, but this story will not be one of them.

After lord TruckZot had bargained for his life by giving the boy a wish, he had made contact with the Demon’s Guild of the Dammed, who at that point, assigned a demon to conduct the exchange of wishes. As luck would have it, Macle was assigned.

This might not seem complicated on the outside, but in between are numerous steps dealing mostly with stacks of paperwork. This poses a problem considering that the Demon’s Guild of the Dammed is located in Hell, next to Mt.Firebelcher, and on the banks of lake Rebecca Black. For further information, refer to the best selling novel, Taxes, Miscellaneous Paperwork, the Devil, and You.

So, instead of listing out the many people and organizations involved, Macle chose to answer with, “People. You wouldn’t you them. Anyway, think about your wish, don’t mess it up again, and call me when you’re ready.”

“Wait,” Nick started, trying to force the young wizard to give him some more information.

“See ya!” the boy shouted as a puff of pink smoke enveloped him. It cleared a bit later, leavening the fly coughing uncontrollably, and an empty spot where the wizard had stood.

“That’s great,” Nick mumbled. “What the hell should I wish for?”