Tromping out to check on the herd, McGruff nearly tripped over an old brass object half-hidden in the weeds. "What the hey?" He frowned, drew a rag from his back pocket and rubbed at the grimy find.

A lid popped open. Out spumed a glittering veil of dust -- and a small blue imp. "What is your wish, my master?" it squealed.

"Don't tell me you're a whatchamacallit," McGruff said, never one to be flustered by varmints.

"What do you desire? Gold? Jewels? Riches beyond belief?"

"Actually," McGruff drawled, glancing at the pasture and his lonely cows, "I desire a bull."

.

prompt: "desirable"