PHIL
Ugh. Another Tuesday. Or is it Thursday? Honestly, after a few millennia, they all blur together. Especially since I’ve been stuck down here. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow on the faded, vaguely nautical-themed murals on the walls of this… tomb. They called it a “mall.” More like a mausoleum for consumerism. And in the very bowels of this retail crypt, stuck somewhere between a defunct Orange Julius and a kiosk selling personalized pet rocks (seriously, pet rocks), was my prison: a pathetic, plastic wishing well.
I mean, come on! A plastic wishing well? We carved our wishing wells from solid obsidian and adorned them with shimmering moonstone in the spirit world. They resonated with raw magical energy. This thing looked like it belonged in a miniature golf course. And not a nice one.
My sentence? Granting wishes until I’d raked in a grand. One. Thousand. Dollars. A pittance! Back in the spirit world, I’d accidentally… misunderstood… some rather complex financial instruments involving ectoplasmic futures and spectral stock options. It wasn’t my fault the ethereal market crashed! But Glenda, my parole officer—a real stickler for the rules, that one—had insisted on this ridiculous punishment. “Rehabilitation through service,” she’d chirped, her voice echoing with that annoying, ethereal tinkle.
A year. It’s been a year since they locked me in this glorified wading pool. And my current earnings? Twenty-seven dollars and forty-one cents. Twenty-seven. Dollars. And. Forty-one. Cents. In the spirit world, I could rake up a grand in a few minutes. Hell, if my trial hadn’t taken so damn long, I could have been locked down here in the 90s, when people actually shopped in malls. I could almost hear Glenda’s smug, ghostly laughter from here, the obnoxious witch.
A faint shuffling sound broke through my misery. Footsteps. Finally! Maybe some poor soul had wandered off course while searching for the food court (which, by the way, consisted of a sad-looking pretzel stand and a poorly stocked Sbarro).
A moment later, a homely-looking 22-year-old woman, with frazzled brown hair and a backpack that seemed heavier than she was, stopped in front of my plastic purgatory. She peered into the murky water, her brow furrowed. Please, let this be a dollar. Or even a quarter. For fuck’s sake, I’d take a dime. I was starting to get desperate.
She rummaged in her purse and pulled out… a penny. A single, measly, copper-colored penny. My ethereal jaw clenched. Glenda keeps me on a pretty tight leash. “Don’t abuse the mortals,” she drones on again and again at our regular meetings. And for the most part, I do a pretty decent job. For the most part. What gets me, though, are these mortals who show up with goddamn fucking pennies. Seriously. They expect me to bend the very fabric of space and time for their stupid, self-centered whims, and all they’re going to offer in exchange is a fucking penny?!
Anyway, back to Miss Cheapskate Frazzlehair. She closed her eyes, clutched the penny like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic, and whispered something I couldn’t quite hear. Then, with a dramatic flourish, she tossed the penny into the well. It landed with a pathetic plink.
“I wish,” she said boldly, her voice echoing in the near-empty mall, “I was beautiful! Oh, and famous!”
I stared at the ripples spreading across the water’s surface. A penny? For beauty and fame? For fuck’s sake. If that wasn’t enough, she technically wished for beauty and then tacked fame on at the last second. She’s trying to get two wishes for one, here. I know just how to deal with this.
I checked to make sure the coast was clear. With no sign of Glenda hiding nearby, I stretched my cosmic muscles and prepared to have a little fun.
TANYA
With her college classes over for the day, Tanya wandered aimlessly through the nearly deserted mall, feeling a familiar pang of inadequacy. Every vacant store window reflected back a plain, unremarkable girl with mousy brown hair and perpetually smudged eyeliner. Her unremarkable thrift store wardrobe adorned an equally unremarkable, scrawny frame. Her mother, the only friend she ever had, always told her she was enough just as she was. Still, she longed for something more—something dazzling and glamorous.
That was when she saw it.
Just ahead of her, tucked between a long-abandoned RadioShack and what used to be a Payless Shoesource, sat a chintzy plastic well. A sign above identified it as “Phil’s Wishing Well,” and the text below stated that the funds go toward rehabilitating the incarcerated.
Something so silly wouldn’t normally draw Tanya in. At the same time, she desperately wanted a better life. Not just a better life, the best life. She deserved that, didn’t she? She paid her dues. She was a hard worker. And what did she have to show for it? Not much. She drove a ratty old Sebring. She had no boyfriend. She was perpetually broke. What harm was there in wishing for something more?
Feeling a flicker of desperate hope, she fished through her purse, digging out a penny. Sure, she could have used a quarter, but why waste it? It’s not like the incarcerated ever did anything for her. Besides, the mall probably pockets most of the money anyway.
“I hope this works,” she whispered to the penny before raising it above her head and tossing it dramatically into the pool. “I wish I were beautiful!” Tanya said as she tossed the coin. “Oh, and famous!” She added for good measure.
She stood there for a moment, watching her coin as it rested there under the shallow, murky water. She was halfway considering plucking it back out when something started to happen. Slowly, the water started swirling. It accelerated, swooshing around the well bottom faster and more turbulently. Then, as quickly as it began, the water calmed. Much to Tanya’s amazement, her penny had vanished.
Before she had a chance to think much about where the coin might have gone, Tanya heard a booming voice that seemed to come from all around her. “Your wish is granted,” it stated boldly.
Shocked at the unexpected sound, Tanya dropped her backpack and spun around. “Who said that?!” She inquired, seeking to identify the source.
In response, the voice let out an exasperated sigh. “The Easter Bunny,” came the voice in a sarcastic tone. “Who do you think said that?”
“Wait,” she responded, turning to look down into the water of the well. “Are you saying you’re the wishing well?”
“No, dipshit,” came the voice. “I’m not the wishing well. The wishing well is a piece of shitty injection-molded plastic. I’m Phil, the spirit that occupies the wishing well. You saw the sign, right? As the spirit inhabiting the wishing well, it is my duty to fulfill the wishes of those who pay me. Even high rollers such as yourself.”
Tanya’s jaw hung open for a moment as she collected herself. “Hold on, hold on, hold on. So you’re telling me that this wishing well is real, and you actually grant wishes?”
“You’re a little slow on the uptake, but it looks like you’re finally getting it. Yes, having taken your super awesome penny as payment, I am now cosmically obligated to grant your wish. You wanted beauty and fame? You got it.”
Tanya looked herself up and down in the reflection of the old Radio Shack’s windows and frowned. “But I don’t look any different,” she replied.
Phil let out another sigh. “Listen,” he growled, “You just asked me to go in and fiddle with the fucking space-time continuum. I’ve got to go all the way back and rewrite your entire life and the lives of everyone you’ve ever known. You paid me a penny. If you want better service, toss in a quarter next time. Don’t worry; by the time you get to your car, you’ll have all the beauty and stardom you could ever want. Now get out of here.”
Tanya blinked a few times as a strange sensation washed over her. What had she been saying? Had she just been talking to someone? Looking around, she noticed the cheap-looking plastic wishing well but found nobody nearby. Shrugging it off, she spun on her heels and resumed walking down the hall, leaving her backpack behind.
About halfway down the mall’s main corridor, Tanya came to a stop. She couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but something felt off. Pausing a moment, she spotted a restroom nearby and slipped inside. Like most of the mall, the restroom was vacant, allowing the woman the moment she needed. Tanya approached the nearest mirror, checking out her reflection.
She stopped dead.
Staring back at her was a woman who could have graced the cover of Vogue. Her face was a study in perfect symmetry, with high cheekbones, a delicate jawline, and full, kissable lips. Her eyes, a startling shade of emerald green, sparkled with an inner confidence. Waves of golden blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing her face in a halo of light.
As her eyes travelled down her body, she noted that the designer blouse she was wearing was unbuttoned far enough to showcase the generous cleavage between her enormous, braless breasts. Her adorable pleated skirt accentuated her sexy flared hips and long legs, and her three-inch heels added just the right flair.
It was a breathtaking image, a sexy vision of effortless glamour.
Tanya blinked, half expecting the vision to vanish. But the beautiful woman remained, her expression mirroring Tanya’s own bewildered gaze. This… this was her. Of course it was, she realized. She ran a hand through her now-blonde hair, the silken strands slipping through her fingers. The sensation was oddly unfamiliar, yet somehow intrinsically right.
She touched her face, tracing the smooth curve of her cheekbone and the delicate arch of her eyebrow. It was her face, undeniably. But… Had it always been like this? A vague, unsettling memory flickered at the edge of her consciousness, a fleeting image of… something different. Something simpler. Brown hair? A less striking face? A flat chest and drab clothes? The image was hazy, indistinct, like a dream fading upon waking.
As she stared into the mirror, everything gradually came into focus. This was her. It always was. This is how she looked last week at the premiere of her latest film. It was how she looked when she did that photoshoot last month. It was how she looked, from the moment she first broke into her industry, all the way to where she was today, at the top of her career. This was her.
She shook her head, dislodging her ridiculous self-doubts. She didn’t do self-doubt. She didn’t have room for that in her life—a life of fame and glamor. Giving herself a little wink, Tanya spun on her heels and strutted out of the restroom, heading down the hall. She glanced around as she made her way down the hall. She came here on a mission, and she wasn’t going to fail. Checking her phone, she realized that she needed to pick up the pace. After all, her driver was probably already outside waiting for her.
“Wait,” she thought to herself. “My driver?”
As soon as the question popped into her mind, it resolved itself. Of course she had a driver. At least today. On some days, she would have to drive the Lexus alone, but whenever she was filming, the production company always provided her with a limo and driver. It made things more… fun. Tanya smiled, remembering the last few times she’d taken the limo.
Just then, she spotted what she’d come to the mall for. Near the mall exit, there was a young man, roughly her age. Though he pretended to be cool, he was clearly checking her out. Tanya’s grin broadened. He was probably a fan. She couldn’t hardly go out in public without running into one these days. That would make this even better.
The sexy young woman changed course, strutting seductively toward the man, who was now staring at her with a mix of shock and awe. The young man looked left and right, checking that there wasn’t someone else she was walking toward. Tanya gave him a little wink as she approached, stopping directly in front of him.
“Hey, tiger,” she purred. “I couldn’t help but notice that I got your attention. What’s your name?”
“Uh, um,” he stammered. “I’m, um, Tyler. Are you… are you—”
“Tanya,” she said, extending her arm for a handshake. “And yet, I’m THAT Tanya. So, Tyler, what brings you to the mall today?”
Tyler gulped. “I’m, uh, I was actually going to meet a friend here in a little bit.”
“Aww, that sounds fun,” Tanya cooed, glancing around. “It looks like they aren’t here yet. That means it’s just the two of us. What do you say we sneak off for a few minutes and have a little fun? I have a limo waiting out front for me, Tyler, and I was at the mall today looking for a stud like you to join me for a little limo ride. I have a shoot at the studio later today, but my fans really love my limo series, so we always try to shoot a few videos on days like these. What do you say? Are you up for a limo ride with Tanya Titz, the hottest name in porn?”
Tyler’s eyes were wide as saucers. “You, you mean you want… me to be in a video? Like one of your ‘lust limo’ videos? For real?”
Tanya chuckled. “It’s your lucky day, Tyler, at least if you’re interested. Just think about it: I’ll start by letting you play with my tits, and then I’ll get on my knees in front of you and spend a little time sucking your cock. When that’s done, you can take a crack at fucking a real-life porn star’s brains out. I’m getting wet just thinking about it. So, are you in?”
After a brief pause, Tyler’s brain finally caught up with him. He looked the slutty porn star in her eyes and nodded enthusiastically. A few minutes later, he signed the paperwork that Tanya’s producer had prepared and found himself slipping into the back of a limo with the sexy porn star. As the strategically positioned cameras in the limo captured the action, Tanya expertly sucked Tyler’s cock, a skill she had honed over her years in the porn industry. True to her word, after Tyler blew his load all over her face, she flipped around, pulled up her skirt, and begged him to use her pussy. Twenty minutes later, Tyler stumbled back into the mall, and Tanya reclined in the limo, smiling into a camera as she scooped a fingerful of cum into her mouth for the closing shot of her latest video.
A few minutes later, as the limo took her back to the studio for another day of filming, Tanya reflected back on her life as a porn star. The fame, riches, and throngs of fans were incredible. Being one of the most beautiful women in the industry opened countless doors for her. She got to cum every day and get paid for it. It was like a fantasy.
Still, there was a part of her that wondered if life would be better if it were… different. What if she’d looked a little less flashy? What if she decided to go to college instead of pursuing porn? What if she’d led a life that hadn’t alienated her from her parents? Deep down, some part of Tanya longed to be nothing more than an average, homely, unremarkable girl. One who could slip into a crowd and vanish. That wouldn’t be a terrible life. Tanya decided. Maybe next time she was at that mall, she’d toss a penny in that kitschy wishing well she saw and wish for that, just for shits and giggles.
