Dave looked around at the cheap apartment and its collection of discount furniture and found objects. "Might as well upgrade this place now that I've upgraded you," he said to Jasmine. "Let's see...I wish this apartment and its furnishings were a lot more luxurious, and there was just one bedroom, and a bathroom with a nice big shower and a Jacuzzi."
Jasmine wanted to ask, "So where am I going to sleep?", but instead she and Dave just watched as the items around them transformed -- a light fixture disappeared and a new one appeared; a door shifted places; the carpet under their feet was replaced by a hardwood floor with a couple of Oriental rugs appearing in strategic locations.
"Oh, wow, this is awesome," said Dave, looking over at the brand-new stainless-steel appliances and marble countertops in the kitchen, the leather sofa and chairs that had replaced a mismatched set of broken-down dumpster finds, the giant TV flanked by shelves that seemed to hold an entire video store's worth of DVDs. Even the open beers had changed, from cans of a mass-produced American brew into bottles of some obscure German brand, now sitting atop the new chrome-and-glass coffee table.
"It's missing something, though," Dave continued, walking around the living room, and finally leaning against the dining table that sat under a small crystal chandelier. "I know -- the walls," he said to Jasmine. "I wish the walls of this apartment were decorated with framed nude photos, in the style of modern-day Playboy centerfolds, of beautiful young Hollywood actresses of yesterday and today. I assume your magic can create..."
He didn't finish his sentence, because the very objects he desired appeared out of thin air. "Oh, man, just like I imagined," Dave said, taking a few steps to stand right in front of the nearest photo.
Jasmine happened to be looking across the room at Anne Hathaway in nothing but high heels and small, lacy pink panties that were down around her knees, but she turned her attention to what Dave was looking at, which was clearly Audrey Hepburn. "Nice face, but she could use some bigger tits," Dave said, and then pointed his thumb toward a certain region of her body and added, "Hey, I wonder if your magic can change the past so women have always shaved down there." He turned toward Jasmine, "No, or better yet, so women evolved without hair down there to begin with!"
Just then, Jasmine was saved by the bell from Dave's big ideas. Literally -- the apartment doorbell rang. Instead of the harsh metallic tone it used to have, the sound was a pleasant version of the 4-note Westminster chime.
Dave walked to the door with a smile on his face.
