Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

Granted, but you accidently blow everything up whilst playing your music.

I wish I'd quit responding to ChaoticMind

Granted. You find yourself being fish-slapped with greater frequency.

I wish to hear some rocket-pig music.

Granted, the first round of the performance lands right in your lap and blows you up before the fith note. What little you hear though is awesome.

I wish for someone to learn how to play squid bass so we can form a band called Explodeing SquidPig.

Granted, but the squid doesn't like to be played with and eats your band mates.

I wish to be able to drive a matchbox car.

Granted. You are small enough to drive a Matchbox car. But you find the doors won't open, the steering wheel doesn't work and there are no brakes. You wind up buried in a sandbox. Then a cat walks by and........

I wish to hear some squid bass music.

Granted. You hear the music, but only until the extremely low frequency vibrations rupture you soft tissues and shake the flesh from your bones. It must be what being hit by noise marine weapons feels like.

I wish for another round of drinks for everyone.

Granted, it's an Ork drink called Red Ones Go Fasta, made from red paint and a mix of gas/petrol, oil, radiator fluid, transmission fluid, nitrus oxide, and the random gunk scraped of an ork vehicle. Just remember: What doesn't kill you makes you violently ill and causes permanent damage.

I wish for a glass of squid-berry juice.

Granted. And you have to drink it all.

I wish for some Iced Tea.

Granted, You get a death white 80's rapper named Ice Tea.. He has been "iced", get it.

I wish for a well made cocktail.

Granted, you get a finely made, very expensive tail for your penis.

I wish for a supply of gas that eradicates the need for sleep.

Unfortunately, the gas is pretty potent, and you can never sleep again.

I wish for more female 40k armies

Granted, the next army released is Codex: Ork Cheerleaders. It even has unique sculpts for all 97 entries.

I wish to rule the south western bit of Washington DC..

Granted. Mitt Romney invades and overthrows you kingdom, exiling you to hull.

I wish for some original creapypasta.

Granted, you are featured in new, original live-action-creepypasta, in which you are torn apart by venomous-sea-cabbages.

I wish I could remember to finish my creepypasta

Granted. everyone thinks he ending is so stupid it ruins the story.

I wish I was Farseer Macha

Granted. But you can't see very far at all.

I wish to look like Abominog.

Granted, but you are quickly beaten and burned to death, only to have your limbs torn from your body and your bones spread across the world to ensure you can never come back to haunt the world of man by a mob of fearful people.


I wish GW was run by people that cared for growing the hobby and cared for the happiness of it's customers...

Granted. GW is now run by Bert & Ernie.

I wish someone made an Abominog figure.

Granted. They make a higly detailed, anatomicly correct, High quality resin model. Its a limited run of only three casts, one is kept by the creator and the other two are bought by me. I don't want them, but I just don't want anyone else to have them.

I wish to make more people miserable just because I am a horrible bastard.

granted, but they take out their misery on you by stripping you and stabbing you all over with a hot poker.

I wish for more wishes.

Granted for each wish you make something unpleasent will happen to you

I wish for a collection of miniatures from the movie Apocalypse Now

Granted. They are shipped to you by being melted down, cast into bullets, and fired at you from point blank range.

I wish for moving targets.

Granted, they are moving very fast. Towards you.

I wish I could decide if wither Titty Tuesday or Warhammer Wednesday are the better day.

Granted. You decide that Thyroid Thursday beats them both.

I wish for amazing stories.

Granted, they are all about your fathers sexual exploits with some rather disturbing partners/objects in excessively graphic detail.

I wish for snurl to forget those amazing stories and get some replacements.

Granted. They are all fapfiction about Grey Knights and Tau.

I wish I could get rounding to writing my Ibram Gaunt/ Eldar shipping fic.

Granted. even you hate it.

I wish I had never learned Arabic

You now have the misconception that all arabic-sounding language is talking about terrorism.

I wish there were no annoying ads on youtube.

Granted. Youtube now funds itself by pay per view.

I wish to be a contestant on American Ninja.

Granted. But then you find someone ninjed your place on the show.

I wish my foot wasn't numb.