Djinn 3: Ifrit

I'm getting a little tired of these damned djinns coming around. Today's was an ifrit, and in case you don't know, ifrits are about the most obnoxious djinns you'll ever meet. You always smell one before you see it. It's the smoke. It burns your eyes and makes you cough raspy hacks. The temperature rises dramatically and you break into a sweat. Did I mention they're made of fire?

Like all djinns, this one was pissed to be in the presence of a human being. See, they're powerless to escape once they arrive. We hold no sway over ifrits, but they don't know that. They assume they're caught and are being forced to grant wishes and perform chores. This one was doing my laundry while muttering foul obscenities about my mother. I hated to see my shirts go up in flames, so I donned an asbestos suit and locked it in a half-nelson. In this way I finally convinced it to search for greener pastures elsewhere, which it did after relieving me of all my household flammables. After it was gone I thought up a good half a dozen wishes I could have laid on it, but what the hell, chief among them would have been to wish him gone and I got that regardless. I think I need a dog. A big, mean dog.