"You really are a genie, aren't you?" Derek asked the woman, circling around her.
"Yes, Master. I am."
"Uh ... how long have you been ..."
"In the lamp?" she said, finishing his sentence.
"Yeah."
"Many many years, Master." She took a step towards him. Derek could hear the grass being crushed under her feet. She really was there. "I've been waiting for you, Master."
"Waiting for me?"
"Well, waiting for someone to be my master. It's important for a genie to have a master. Is it not?"
"Uh ... sure. So, what do I call you?"
"All my previous masters called me Slave."
"Slave? That doesn't sound like a very good name."
She looked slightly confused. "But it's my purpose. I am a slave to my master."
"Well, from now on, you won't be called Slave. I think I'll call you ... uh ... Jen. You know, like a shorter version of genie. What do you think?"
"Oh, I love it, Master. Jen is a very beautiful name."
It is? Derek wondered. Perhaps the genie was just trying to sound grateful ... for anything. She was trapped in that lamp for who knew how long.
"So, uh, Jen."
"Yes, Master?"
"You're a genie, right? So doesn't that mean that you'll grant wishes?"
