"Sexy story, Seth." Dirk cracked open a beer and killed it in one swallow. He burped the alphabet and then the new national anthem, The Bars and Pipes. "Anyone wanna get brewed up? It'll be super-fun."

"Certainly, dear," Dora-Mae said, reaching for one, her old hands eager for alcohol.

Seth and Coltrane shook their heads together. "We're vegan."

"Hey, me, too!" Dirk pointed out that his cheddar-spinach-chocolate-chip-cookie beer was gluten-free and contained no known animal by-products.

"Well, maybe one..."

A jolt of lightning filled my noggin. I slapped my hand to my forehead. "No! No alcohol! It poisons the spirit of love!" Smacking away the beer cans from the gang's hands, I grabbed Dirk's rucksack of booze and tossed it through the waterfall.

Dirk raised an eyebrow. "Bro, you need to chillax and get crunk."

I pointed my finger at him. "JUDAS!" I bellowed, then scurried over to the waterfall to think.

From behind: "Well, that wasn't very dope."

Dope. Just a word, but it meant so much to me.

Once upon a time—before the Trumpocalypse had begun—I had been a boozehound, a drug fiend, and, yes, even a painted maypole on certain days of the week. But all that had changed when the Holy Spirit had spoken to me in the desert, in the form of a salamander who could recite scripture. It was at Burning Man 2015. I had just finished having my way with a couple SteamPunk girls, when I felt a burning sensation below the belt. I thought perhaps urinating out whatever was lodged in there would help matters. That was when I saw the salamander on the rock. It licked its eyeballs and proceeded to teach me the Truth, and even prophesied the coming apocalypse. Back then, I'd attributed the whole thing to the massive amounts of MDMA and peyote I'd ingested—but later on, when I started noticing the salamander's prophecy coming true...

I sighed. "There's a message with all these stories we're telling, gang," I said, still facing the waterfall.

"Wha—?" Dirk asked. "Speak up!"

"That even when faced with adversity, we can all pull through. We can become stronger, better people, and change this world of ours into something we can all be proud of. A world of love, a world of peace and art. A world without poverty or conflict. A world where the only disagreements over race are on The Amazing Race, courtesy of CBS." Turning to my gang, I asked them: "Are you with me?"

They all nodded.

Dirk came over and apologized. "Totes sorry for being, like, um, well, a Judas, bro. I didn't know alcohol was so bad. Like, I used to kill a few two-fours each Sunday with my dad when I was twelve, so, um, y'know."

"And now you know," I told him, walking him back to the group. "Why don't you tell a story, Dirk."

"Sure, bro! I call it

A BOTTLE OF JINN by CliffJonesJr

"Sorry, it's 9:01."

"Yeah? And what's that supposed to mean?"

"We're closed."

"Closed?" The tipsy-looking woman scowled and furrowed her brow, not believing what she'd heard. "The hell you are. Ring me up!"

Felix lightly closed his eyes and summoned the patience to explain once again: "It is unlawful in the state of Texas to sell liquor after 9:00 p.m."

"No, that's bullcrap. Let me talk to your manager." She craned her neck to look around the store, making a big show of it.

"I'm the manager on duty, ma'am. If you visit one of the bars down the street, they'll be able to sell until 2:00 a.m."

The woman's mouth fell open in horror. "Ma'am?!" For a moment, she looked genuinely hurt. But then her angry scowl returned, and she headed for the door in a huff, leaving her birthday-cake vodka on the counter. "See if I ever come back here!"

Felix breathed a sigh of relief. Only one straggler to deal with tonight. Not bad. Familiar Spirits could survive without that woman's business. He doubted she'd actually keep her promise to stay away, though. Drunks had conveniently short memories.

As Felix was preparing to lock up and exit through the back, an intriguing bluish glint caught his eye. On the floor of the supply closet near the back door, a cobalt liquor bottle stood mixed in among the cleaners. Its olive-green label read in ornate, faux-Arabic lettering: Damavand Persian Gin.

Persian? Felix racked his brain trying to recall if he'd ever seen a bottle like that before. He was pretty sure he'd remember Persian gin. Indian, sure, but they used to be under British rule, so gin made sense. Persia was... Iran? Was liquor even allowed there?

In any case, he was certain Damavand Persian gin was not currently listed in the inventory. This bottle must have been sitting in the supply closet for years, since before Felix was even hired. Some former employee had probably stashed it there in the closet, preparing to move it out the back door when no one was around. It was an old trick, and it usually worked. Felix had done it himself in his younger, more reckless years.

That is to say, before he'd met Penny. He'd changed for her. And then she'd left him.

If the bottle wasn't in the inventory, he reasoned, then it wasn't technically the property of Familiar Spirits. And in that case, he wasn't technically stealing it. It was more like a lost-and-found item. But there could be a hidden security camera somewhere that didn't follow his logic, so Felix gathered up a few empty—or at least nearly empty—bottles of cleaner to make the liquor less obvious. Behind the store, he tossed the cleaners into the dumpster and drove off with his prize.

#

By the time Felix pulled up to his lonely studio apartment, it was raining heavily and delicate tendrils of lightning had begun to dance across the eastern sky. The entire way home, he'd resisted the urge to crack open that mystery bottle and have a sip. Once the engine was off and there was no open-container law to worry about, he gave in to temptation.

It was, without qualification, the best thing Felix had ever tasted in all his twenty-five years on the planet. And he didn't even like gin! He was more of a bourbon drinker—though his professed favorite was mezcal, a white lie he'd told his Uncle Manny while bonding over a bottle.

But this... This was something else entirely. There was a fresh herbal bite, as if from parsley, basil, maybe a little mint? And that was balanced with a sort of fruity flavor: figs, dates, apricots... Definitely some spices like cinnamon and cardamom. And was that rose? All of it swirled together into an icy, smokeless fire that seemed to light him up from the inside.

Felix's sip turned into a swig, and that turned into a guzzle. By the time he pulled the bottle away from his lips, he'd already downed a good third of it—far too much for an empty stomach. He got out of his car and stumbled through the pouring rain to his apartment door. Any neighbors watching—and there actually were a couple—would have assumed he'd driven home drunk—and they did. From behind their respective mini-blinds, they clicked their tongues in disapproval.

As Felix fumbled with his keys, he failed to notice a large black dog come up behind him in the rain. It waited expectantly for the door to open, and as soon as there was a suitable gap, it pushed inside. The beast immediately shook itself, sprinkling most of Felix's possessions with dog-scented rainwater. Felix turned away, shielding his face from the spray. But as soon as he looked back, there was no dog, only a very large man with copper skin, curly black hair, and a neat little beard.

"What the—" Felix started. "Who the hell are you?!" The intruder was clad all in gray, in a flowing sort of a robe, like a wizard, or something. "Are you a wizard?" Felix was not entirely sober.

"My name is Aeshma," replied the man. "I have come here to—"

"Your name is Asthma?"

"Aeshma. I—"

"Ozma?"

"Aesh—"

"Ash! OK, sorry about that," Felix said with relief. "I'll remember 'cuz I have a cartoon name, too. Felix. You know... the cat?"

Ash made no reply for a moment and then continued: "I've come here because I owe you a favor."

Felix wrinkled his forehead. "How's that? I don't believe we've met, sir... Are you a customer? Familiar Spirits?"

"Yes, that's right," said Ash. "Familiar spirit. I'll grant you one favor. Take a moment to think it over. Whatever you wish, I'll do my best to make it happen."

Felix stared hard at the stranger. His brain was a black fog, as usual, but a few streams of light shone through. It made absolutely no sense, but somehow Felix believed the man might actually be a wizard... or an angel, or some otherworldly wraith with the power to work miracles. He dropped his gaze and muttered to himself: "Penny."

"Pardon?" asked Ash in his eerily formal way.

"My ex-girlfriend, Penny," Felix continued. "I want... I want to talk to her. She changed her number, her email... practically dropped off the face of the earth. Can you help me with that? Is that something you can work out?" His tone started off somber but developed a mocking edge to it as he went on.

Ash grinned. "Done," he said simply. "Check your phone."

Warily, half dreading what he'd find, Felix pulled out his phone. It was sitting at the new call screen with an unfamiliar number already filled in, ready to go. He glanced at Ash uneasily and then hit CALL. His heart rattled violent as he waited for an answer, ring after maddening ring.

Then, at last: "What do you want, Felix?"

It was Penny. And she knew it was him! Well, of course. He wasn't unlisted. His number hadn't even changed! He really should have thought this through a little better. "Hi, Penny," he said meekly.

There was an awkward silence, and then Penny sighed audibly. "Hi? Look, you've got to know this worries me. I told you not to call me. I even changed my number. What's so important that you had to track me down?"

"I just... miss you," said Felix.

Another pause. "I miss you, too... a little," Penny conceded. "But we've been over this. I've got my problems, and you've got yours, and they don't, you know, mix well."

"I know that's how it was, but—"

She cut him off: "You need somebody that can take care of you. And that's not me."

"I've actually grown a lot in the past few months," Felix pressed on. "I've been through some stuff. And I've been taking good care of myself. Really, just meet me for coffee, or something. Please?"

Penny let out a groan, but she didn't say no. She seemed to be thinking it over.

Then Felix added, "Actually, could you come over here? I can make some coffee."

"What? Why don't you want to—" Silence. Felix caught his mistake a moment too late. In a low, serious tone, Penny asked, "Have you been drinking?"

What could he do at this point? Even over the phone, the woman was a human lie detector. "Well..."

Penny hung up. And Felix knew she meant it. He stared at his phone in shock. That was it. It was really over. It would take a miracle to win her back now. A miracle. The thought reminded him of Ash. He looked all around the apartment, even outside, but the mysterious visitor had simply vanished.

Felix began to suspect he'd imagined the whole encounter. Maybe he was cracking up. It was an unsettling possibility, but not half as frightening as what he really suspected: He'd just met a demon.

#

Felix numbly placed a couple of pale sausages into a skillet and started them cooking. With a slow, mechanical motion, he shifted them back and forth as they sizzled and browned. He told himself he'd feel better with food in his belly, but he didn't really believe it. For that matter, he didn't particularly want to feel better. But there was a part of him that knew he wasn't himself at the moment, so he tried to be like a clock, just ticking away without a thought.

As he stared at the sausages cracking and splitting in the pan, he wished he could just have a cry and be done with it. But it never worked like that. First cold, then hot, then down, then back up again. He could already feel his detachment giving way to disgustingly predictable rage. He had the idea of calling Penny back to tell her off, but he resisted and tried to focus his anger on himself instead.

He caught sight of the bottle of gin on the counter and realized with a flood of relief that alcohol was indeed the answer. It would either make him feel better, or it would cause him some much-deserved pain. Either way, he'd be able to escape from the present moment and into a safer state of mind. Well, safe apart from the threat of alcohol poisoning.

Several ounces later, the room began to wobble and pulse and contract ever so slightly. After finishing sausage number one, Felix had a sudden urge to get up from the table—easier said than done—and step outside for some fresh air. As soon as he'd turned the knob, the door flew open, smacking him in the shoulder. The rain had pretty well stopped, but in its place now was a brutal, howling wind.

Before he could get the door closed again, a little bird flew in and flitted around the room. The poor thing was probably disoriented from the storm. No, on second look, it wasn't a bird...

A bat! Kill it! Felix fumbled around the kitchen, first grabbing a spatula and then searching for something with a longer reach, like a broom. Would a mop work?

"What are you looking for?" inquired a wry, playful voice.

Felix almost fell backward when he saw her. Another spectral visitor clad in gray... but this one was... well, hot. She stood a head taller than Felix, easily six feet. Curly tendrils of glossy black hair spilled down her back and over her shoulders. A heavy robe concealed most of her figure, but that face... Her eyes alone were enough to send alternating waves of pleasure and embarrassment up Felix's spine. And she was barefoot, a detail he found surprisingly sexy.

"Who are you?" Felix forced out at last.

"I am Hazel of the Hidden Ones, an ancient tribe variously called angels, demons, elves, jinn... But to you, forsooth, I am a goddess."

"Forsooth?"

"For reals." Here she smiled, acknowledging the absurdity of the situation. She picked up the bottle of Damavand gin and gingerly screwed the cap back on. "You set me free from this prison, and for that I thank you." She gave a theatrical bow. "OK, one wish. You know the drill."

"You can grant wishes?" Felix asked excitedly. "Like a genie?"

"I can grant wish," Hazel corrected. "One wish, and then I really must be on my way."

Felix thought this over, insofar as he could think anything over in his inebriated state. His thoughts went something like this: That's a real genie, for reals! One wish? Sposta be three! Wait... that guy Ash was like... the same kinda thing, I bet. That stupid call... Was that a wish?! "But he said 'favor'!" Felix yelled this last bit aloud, forgetting that most basic precept of polite society: that one should keep a tight lid on one's inner thoughts, releasing them into the world only after careful review—or better still, not at all.

Hazel smiled broadly, which might have been captivating or alluring if she weren't also busily chewing away the last remaining sausage. As it was, the meaty grin reminded Felix of a predator, and he longed for the comfort of Penny's bed.

"I want Penny," he said weakly. Hazel raised an eyebrow. "I want her to come over so we can get back together and everything will be OK again."

"That's three wishes," Hazel replied with a laugh. "The first is granted; the other two are up to you."

And with that, she was gone. Again it felt as if Felix might have imagined the whole encounter. But both sausages were gone, and he was still hungry. No, wait... He was going to be sick.

#

Sometime later, Felix awoke from a heavy nap. His left arm tingled from the awkward position he'd had it in, and the right side of his face bore a mark from the toilet seat, which he'd been using as a pillow. He flushed the aromatic remains of one sausage and way too much Persian gin.

This was a new low.

He cleaned himself up, found his phone, and checked the time. 12:30? Where was Penny? He'd made the wish, and Hazel had said it was granted. Without much thought, he started a text to the number Ash had given him: "Are you coming over?" He paused a moment, reconsidering, but then the thing just sent on its own! Damn cheap phone.

Two agonizing minutes later, there was a response: "Why would you think I'm coming over? I was almost asleep."

Felix scrambled for something meaningful and poetic to say, but all he came up with was, "I'm sorry," followed shortly thereafter by, "I love you."

"I love you, too," replied Penny. "But that's not enough."

Not enough?! It was enough for him! It had been enough for her, too, until he spent Thanksgiving with her family. That hadn't gone well. Penny knew he had some minor tics, and they hadn't seemed to bother her. But her family had treated him like... Well, like he was autistic.

It was true enough that he was on the spectrum—but barely. If Penny couldn't handle a little Asperger syndrome, then forget her!

And just like that, Felix knew what he had to do. He grabbed the bottle of mystery gin from his table and began to chug. If you've ever tried to chug straight liquor, you'll recall it's no mean feat. But Felix was determined. When the bottle was empty, he slammed it down, ran to his front door, and threw it open violently. The night was calm now but still overcast. Felix stared up at the starless sky. "Well?!" he shouted into the void.

In answer, there was a bright, purplish flash as lightning struck a small tree in the apartment courtyard. The sound was like a bomb going off. The little tree caught fire instantly, casting a hazy glow in the fog. Felix imagined he could feel an electrical charge lingering in the air. "Come on!" he taunted.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the power blinked off, leaving only firelight. Felix's courage faltered as he made out a long, black shadow slithering toward him in the grass. But he didn't dare turn away, not when he was so close.

Just before it reached his feet, the serpent leapt into the air. For a moment, it seemed to balance on the tip of its tail. Then, it sprouted four spindly limbs and began to fatten and contort into the shape of a human. In an instant, there was no snake, only a very large man in a gray robe. This one had his hair tied back and sported an oddly rectangular beard.

"It seems you've been expecting me," laughed the apparition. "The name's Ozzie. What do you want this time?"

Felix gulped hard, fighting tears. "My ex-girlfriend Penny... I want to forget about her. Start over."

Ozzie stepped closer and leaned in as if to whisper. "Easily done, my son," he said with a ragged grin.

Felix involuntarily shut his eyes and turned away as he felt the genie's hot, putrid breath on his face. In a moment, he remembered nothing of the night's events but felt only a vague sense of loss, as if waking from an important dream. A light rain began to fall, dousing the flames of the tree.

When Penny pulled up to Felix's apartment, she found him standing in the courtyard, completely soaked from the rain. He was down in the depths for sure. She'd said she wasn't going to take care of him, but if she didn't, then who would? She loved him, after all, and he took care of her right back, in his way.

Felix turned to look at her with that same sheepish grin he'd worn the first time they'd met. And, just like back then, Penny couldn't resist. She was his, for better or worse. From now on, it would be better.