Corrupt A Wish

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Granted. Being able to produce a mole of graphite is a super power.

I wish for a PRIZE MACHINE like the ones the others keep getting.

Granted, it falls on your head.

I want a saxophone.

Granted. It is a paper saxophone.

I wish for a blessed rustproof wand of fire (5:127)

Granted. Ironically, it's made out of wood, so the fire eats it.

I wish this Saturday lasted a week.

[Actually, one only needs to put rustproof or fireproof to protect against all the damage types.]

Granted. You become bored to such an extent that you wrestle with ennui and lose.

I wish for everyone else to live in interesting times.

Granted, but you live in a boring time.

Granted, but it loses all records and connections to the Intel STS.

I wish for lye.

Granted, but you must make cake with it.

I wish to see a double rainbow.

Granted. Incidentally (no pun intended), a triple rainbow is visible five minutes away from wherever you can go before it fades.

I wish for world domination.

Granted, but after a few months the world falls into chaos, everyone starts killing each other, and the human race goes extinct.

I wish I'll finish my eight-page paper ahead of schedule today.

Granted. Then, the medium on which the paper is stored is destroyed such that the information cannot be retrieved.

I wish everything that could possibly change changes.

Granted. The universe shuts down.

I wish entropy can be reversed.

Granted. Great spheres of infernal plasma and liquid air spontaneously appear everywhere.

I wish I could make a sequence of maximal entropy such that the subsequent numbers can be predicted only by chance and not by a set formula and contains few repetitions (just like Langdon's ant).

Granted. No one would have any idea what has happened, and the universe runs down sooner than expected.

I wish good music will be played at the Winter Formal dance this Saturday.

Granted. It is played loudly to the extent that a sinkhole develops due to the rhythm created by any action.

I wish I could fire 2e32J worth of light from my eyes.

Granted. Some company decides to use you as a searchlight for one of its buildings, and many years later, aliens arrive on Earth.

I wish songs do not get stuck in my head so easily.