"Oh no you don't Jon," Becky backed away from her brother, "I'm not done with this yet!"
Jon made a swipe for the wishing rock anyway - but Becky fended him off by poking him sharply with her manicured finger, right in his left boob! Jon wasn't prepared for the sensation and nursed his large tender breast, with a hurt expression on his face.
"Well, I guess I'll have to teach you some manners," Becky intoned as she brandished the stone, "or at least, force them upon you."
Jon panicked and shook his head pleadingly.
"I wish that whenever you want to touch the wishing stone from me or my bedroom, you will come and ask me first," Becky said.
Jon raised his eyebrow, and pointed to his lips.
"Oh yeah, the voice thing," Becky giggled. "Well that won't be forever, but until you get your voice back, you can always write it on a piece of paper or something! Use your imagination!
"I also wish that you could not touch the wishing stone at all unless I grant your request, and if I deny you permission, then you can't touch the rock and ain't allowed to ask me again for another... twelve hours. That should stop you from bugging me the whole time Jon!"
Jon immediately began looking around the room. After some rummaging he found a small scrap of paper and a crayon, scribbled on it and held it up to his sister:
CAN I PLEEEEEEEEEASE
HAVE THE ROCK NOW??
IT'S DANGEROUS! REALLY!
Becky seemed to consider this for a moment, but then laughed, "Ha! Nope!"
Jon's shoulders sank. His arms fell to his sides. His new breasts bounced excitedly.
"Don't worry Jon, I'll give it back eventually," Becky smiled. "Look, I'll fix your balance right now, as a show of good faith, okay?"
Jon crossed his arms and waited.
"I wish that you have 100% perfect balance and will never trip or fall over... but only when you're wearing high heels! Ha! Psyche Jon, I got you again!"
If Jon could speak, he would have swore.
"What now?" Becky pondered, intentionally speaking loudly to taunt Jon, "Hmm, should I mess with my little brother some more, or go see my girlfriends? Or perhaps my boyfriend? Decisions, decisions..."
