Corrupt-a-Wish

Granted. Because you need protective suit, helmet and goggles so you won't get crushed or scratched by bricks and so on, and because you really can't see or hear anything because of being inside a wall, it never really catches on and has only limited use in archaeology, construction and rescue operations.

I wish bottle of cold water would appear right next to me whenever I want one.

Granted. However, it's always seawater. Since it's useless for quenching thirst, it doesn't stop you wanting water. Soon your house is full of bottles of seawater.

I wish I didn't have a bruise on my toe.

Granted. It's gone now but you are getting new one tomorrow on even more inconvinient place.

I wish the Machine from The Machine was real so all problems with Earth's ecocystem could be solved by simply finding it and turning it off.

Granted. There is, however, a second consequence of turning off the Machine, per scenes 3 and 4 of the ending: "Evil no longer exists in the world, at least for now." Upon turning off the Machine, everything remotely seen as "evil" in the world ceases to exist, and it is now impossible to do or be anything regarded as "evil" in any way by any person. So all human infrastructure is destroyed, and everyone becomes a generic inoffensive blob that is incapable of any sort of communication except a dull flat tone that is recognized to mean hello. The "at least for now" part refers to when Earth is colonized by an alien species that does not regard us as sapient and uses us to make a delicacy comparable to fried dough.

I wish you could press the B button to do a backflip in every Nifflas game.

Granted. I can do a backflip in any Nifflas game by pressing B. You cannot, however.

I wish I hadn't eaten so many noodles. My tummy hurts.

Granted. The extra noodles leave your body through your ears and nose like some kind of pasta snakes. It looks and feels just as disgusting as it sounds.

I wish I haven't sunburnt my neck today.

Granted. It rained all day. You got soaked and caught a cold.

I wish the British rail system had never been privatised.

Granted. The past is altered so that the rail system never existed in the first place, so it was never privatised. A (entirely public) network of catapults and haystacks has taken its place instead.

I wish you always landed on a haystack whenever you travel by catapult...

Granted, however you - wait. VG is back???

Granted. However, the haystack is only your final landing spot. On the way, you are guaranteed to hit several branches, and comically fly into a clothesline that equips you with the clothing of an 18th century nobleman, thus additionally causing onlookers to assume you are the Earl of Sandwich and humbly request you prepare "the titular sandwich" for them instead of seeking medical attention.

I wish Gustav's daughter from Gustav's Daughter was real so all problems with Earth's ecocystem could be solved by simply finding the key and freeing her, thus replacing the entire world with a "You Win" screen.

Granted. No one can find the key, however, so the problems don't go away. Ever.

I wish we could find the key.

Granted. However, you are not allowed to pick it up. Anyone who picks up the key gets sent to the Room of Doom before they get a chance to use it.

I wish it was possible to escape from the Room of Doom.

(Hi Veg!)

Granted. It's quite easy actually because there is a switch that deactivates all the traps. Only problem is that the switch is located in the Room of Total Obliteration.

I wish the guy dressed as the 18th century nobleman who is lying on haystack under my clothesline would stop whinig about his broken leg and would prepare me a sandwich and explain me how my absolutely contemporary clothes transformed into breeches, coat, waistcoat and funny looking wig when he touched them.

Granted. However, the only sandwich recipe I know he knows is "raw onion & butter", and the long-winded explanation he provides is entirely in Spanish (plus not a very convincing one).

I wish I knew a great sandwich recipe.

(heya!)

Granted. However, you have difficulty sourcing the cranberry sauce.

I wish the British catapult and haystack system had never been privatised (and sold to all those 18th-Century-costumers).

Granted. The British catapult and haystack system was never invented in the first place. Instead, people have to walk to their destination.

I wish someone would help me invent the British catapult and haystack system.