Author's Note:  This fic is a self-insert.  I realize a lot of people
have written OMG self-inserts, but I'm hoping that this one will be
original enough (in both plot and overall flavor) that I won't be
stepping on anyone's toes.  Anyway, enjoy the fic, and send me some
replies. :)

Thanks,
Bart

*****

Be Careful What You Wish For
Chapter 1
by Bart Kelsey

     Bart yawned and kicked his feet up on the coffee table,
resting them gently on his open Differential Equations
textbook.  "Man, I'm hungry," he said to himself.  He leaned
over and reached for the cordless phone, stretching his arm
and fingers as far as they would go so that he wouldn't have
to actually get up off the recliner to pick it up.
     He contemplated for a moment, trying to remember the
number of the cheapest pizza place in the area.  Nodding to
himself, he lazily punched in seven numbers and held the
receiver up to his ear.
     "Relief Goddess Office," said a female voice on the
other end of the line.  "This is Lea speaking."
     "Yeah," said Bart.  "Um, I'll have a medium thick crust
pizza with pepperoni, green pep--"  He stopped for a moment,
boggled.  "Relief what?"
     "Relief Goddess Office," said Lea.  "I'll be over to
grant your wish in just a second."
     "I think I dialed--"  There was a click on the other
end of the line.  Exasperated, Bart hung up the phone and
tried to remember the correct number.
     Hell is a common thing in college apartment complexes,
so when it broke loose in the laundry room across the hall
from Bart's apartment, he hardly gave it a second thought.
It occurred to him, though, as the crashing and shrieking
subsided, that /his/ laundry was in the dryer at the moment.
As such, he surmised that it might be in his best interest
to go and check it out.
     
     What he saw there was intriguing to say the very least.
The door to one of the dryers--/Bart's/ dryer, to be exact,
was hanging wide open.  The dryer itself was empty, save for
a single sock that was draped over the edge of the opening.
The remainder of Bart's laundry (consisting of various other
socks, underwear, T-shirts, and the like) was strewn all
over the floor ... and the strangely-dressed brunette lying
face-down in front of the dryer just added to the whole
weirdness effect.
     She groaned and picked herself up off the floor.
     "You okay?"
     "Yeah," she said, pulling a sock out of her hair.  "I
think so."
     "Well," said Bart skeptically, "if you don't mind me
asking, what just happened to my dryer?  I mean, why are my
underwear all over the place?  Is it because of something
you did, or were you just unlucky enough to be in here when
whatever it was happened?"
     "I was travelling," she stated matter-of-factly.
     "I hate to sound like a know-it-all," said Bart, "but I
think maybe you should try taking a bus or maybe bum a ride
off of someone.  Hell, if you're feeling old-fashioned
enough, why not just walk?"
     "That's not important now," she replied, waving her
hand as if to dismiss the matter.  "My name is Lea, and I'm
here to grant your wish."
     "You're here to grant my wish," Bart repeated, bending
over to pick up a stray T-shirt.  "Is that some kind of
innuendo?"
     "No, not at all."
     Bart slowly rounded up his laundry and tossed it back
into the dryer.  Lea, meanwhile, leaned back on one of the
washing machines and rubbed her forehead.
     Bart looked up at her as he shut the dryer door.  "Are
you sure you're alright?"
     "Yeah, it's just a little bump."
     Bart sighed.  "Listen.  Why don't we step into my
apartment, and I'll get you an ice pack and an Advil,
alright?"
     She nodded.
     "This way," said Bart, motioning for her to follow him
out into the hallway.  He opened the door directly across
from the laundry room.  "This is it.  Don't mind the mess."
     "Nice place," she lied.
     "Thanks.  Go ahead and have a seat on the couch, and
I'll get you that icepack."  Bart plodded over to the
kitchen and rummaged around in the freezer.  Producing an
ice tray, he emptied its contents onto a dish towel.  "Now,"
he said as he brought it over to her, "what was it you were
saying about a wish?"
     "I've been sent here to grant you one."
     "By whom, exactly?"
     "God, of course."
     Bart handed her the ice.  "Oh, of course.  So, can this
wish be for anything at all?"
     "Well, within reason.  At the moment, I'm still a
Goddess in Training, Third Class, Once Removed."
     "I take it you hit your head pretty hard back there."
     "No, really.  I mean, yeah, I hit my head hard, but I'm
serious.  I really am a goddess."
     "So you're going to grant me a wish."
     She nodded.
     "Anything at all?"
     Nod.
     "Okay ... I wish for a billion dollars."
     "Sorry," she said.  "I'm not quite that powerful yet."
     "Alright then.  How 'bout my own personal harem?"
     "Can't do that either."
     "Well, if you can't give me a billion dollars or a
harem, how am I supposed to believe you're a goddess?"
     "See these markings on my face?"  She pointed at a
turquoise triangular marking in the center her forehead, and
two similar ones below her eyes.
     "Yeah, so you've got a few weird tattoos.  So what?"
     "They're not tattoos.  They're goddess markings."
     "Is that so?"
     She nodded.  "And look at my dress."
     Bart examined the elaborate garment.  "I have to admit,
I've never seen a dress like that, but that's hardly proof
that you're divinity.  And if this /is/ true, how come none
of my friends have ever gotten wishes?"
     "Only certain people can be selected to have their wish
granted," she explained.  "You have to meet the
qualifications."
     "And I met these qualifications?"
     "Weeeeellll ... not quite."
     Bart blinked.  "Ok, then why am I getting a wish?"
     "I'm in training," she said.  "It's kind of a practice
type of deal.  I'm granting your wish so that if I screw it
up, I won't have hurt anybody who actually qualifies."
     "Oh, now that's comforting.  Why don't I qualify?"
     "Let's see.  You're lazy, disorganized, selfish, stuck-
up, rude, crude, domineering, greedy--"
     "I get the point."
     "So, are you going to wish for something, or not?"
     Bart sighed.  "Ok, how's this one?  I wish for A's in
all my classes from now on."
     "Let me check."  Her gaze became distant for a few
seconds.  Finally, without warning, she stood, her back
arching sharply.  The room darkened, and a beam of white
light shot upward from the mark on her forehead.
     Bart gaped.
     Little by little, the small objects in the immediate
vicinity (empty beer and soda cans, papers, etc) floated up
into the air and began to swirl around the center of the
room.  These were soon joined by larger articles, until
finally every loose item in the chamber, including the couch
and Bart's favorite recliner, was whirling around in midair.
Then, as suddenly as the phenomenon had began, it stopped.
The beam disappeared, the lights returned to normal, and the
furniture dropped to the floor with a spectacular crash.
     Lea sank to her knees breathlessly.  "Granted."
     Bart blinked for several seconds, trying to decide
whether he'd seen what he just saw.  "Um," he said at
length, "if I'd wanted this to happen, I would have said 'I
wish for you to trash my apartment'."
     "Sorry," she said.  "Side effect."
     And with that, she collapsed on the floor, unconscious.