Octavia Watson, Wish Consultant

Submitted into Contest #16 in response to: Write a story around the theme: Be careful what you wish for.... view prompt

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General

Octavia Waston inwardly groaned as she recorded Princess Fiona's story. This was possibly the worst field of law. Even the unreliable dwarfs in the ruby mines were more interesting. Why was she a wish consultant?

"And, and when I wished for a prince, I didn't get my prince, I got a different prince." Princess Fiona sobbed as she concluded her "tragic" story.

"Well did you specify who you wanted?"

"No."

Octavia groaned again. Princesses were always so light-headed that they never specified exactly what they wanted in their wishes, so they were never satisfied and therefore Octavia was in the magical committees' courthouse working overtime on minor cases.

Time to be frank.

"Princess Harriet,"

"Fiona"

"Right, Fiona, listen. Vague wishes have no refund policy, you didn't specify that you wanted to change your wish. In the future, you seriously need to draw up a contract, have it signed by sane witnesses (Mad Hatter signed way too many contracts), and by a legal authority. For now, since the wish wasn't drastic, I suggest that you pick a book on communication and a legal wish contract. Goodbye."

Stunned, the Princess walked out of Octavia's tiny office. Octavia grinned, she was getting good at this. She could effectively deal with a minor wish case in 10 minutes max. At this rate, she could switch to Curse law by January, only three months away. She pushed the buzzer. “Next.” 

In came a very unfortunate looking amphibian. “Good morning Miss Watson, I have been turned into a frog.” He croaked. 

“Yes, I see. How?”

“A fairy godmother by the name of Helena Wildwood.”

Oh boy. Godmothers were a lot of trouble. Granting wishes left and right. It drove Octavia berserk.  

“I know Helena, why did she turn you into a frog? Was it a curse or a wish?”

“I guess I deserved it” began the Frog, 

Octavia interrupted, “I’m not a psychiatrist, tell me black and white, why?”

“I commented on her pleasant plumpness.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No, I am not.”

“Write her an elaborate apology and bake her a plate of biscuits. If that doesn’t work, come back in a week.” Octavia could be quite fierce if she wanted, and the frog meekly protested and went on his way.

In this manner, Octavia finished by 5pm and went home to tea and dinner.



November 20, 2019 16:26

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