If you're grinding scams in Vegas and the genie smoked menthols. Brass, dented, humming like a lie you wish you could believe. I didn't rub it — I interrogated it. What would I even wish for? Money's a curse, love's a racket, and immortality is for cowards. No, this thing wasn't magic — it was bait, left by the universe to test who's still got enough left in the tank to hope.