The King, The Peasant And The Lamp

A century ago, a king by the name of king Marvel lived in prosperity, as nobles from far and wide flocked to see him, offering gifts of gold all the while. But no one could give him what he really wanted: power.
One stormy night, everything changed. An elderly woman hobbled into king Marvel’s castle. “I have a gift that I am sure you will like, your majesty. Though I warn you of its power.” At her words, the King looked up. “Well? Where is it?” He demanded. With a gnarled hand, she drew from her cloak a golden lamp.
The King’s eyes grew dark. “What is this piece of junk?” He growled. The woman smiled calmly. “It is a little dusty. Maybe you should dust it off?” Impatiently, he did as she said. To his great surprise, a mist-like substance began to leak from the lamp’s spout, to take the form of a man. “Greetings, ye who has summoned me. I shall grant you one wish of your desire.” The genie said. 
A terrible ides struck Marvel. “My wish is to all power over the people of this land!” He cackled. The genie sighed, but gave a nod of his head. “It is done; however, I warn you, all wishes have their consequences.” The King scoffed. “I have what I wanted. I don’t need you anymore!” and he cast the lamp out a nearby window. It landed with a SPLOSH in the river. 
A lonely, ugly peasant was out in his forest, chopping wood glumly as usual, when his age-worn eyes caught a glimpse of something shining in the nearby river. Curiosity struck him, and he plucked the gold lamp from the water. Joy flooded the peasant. “I can sell this and I’ll be rich!” As he shuffled back to his dingy hut, he wiped the water from its surface with a gnarled hand, and the genie appeared. 
“You must help me. I am a genie who was enslaved and forced to grant people wishes. King Marvel has wished for great power over everyone in this land! Only a contradicting wish can stop him.” The peasant’s forehead creased with what seemed like a thousand wrinkles as he strained to think of a wish that could stop the evil king. It finally came to him. “I wish King Marvel never existed.” With a nod of his head, the genie said “It is done. Thankyou.” With a puff, he disappeared.
“And that is how the peasant saved the people from the tyranny of King Marvel.” An elderly peasant concluded as he closed the book. “Grandpa?” Mumbled a sleepy child. “Yes, little one?” “I want to be a King someday. A good one.” “Maybe you will. Maybe you will find a magic lamp and your wish will come true.” Whispered the old man as the boy closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep.

by: http://www.write4fun.net/view-entry/256513