"Transform!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the emptiness of the fairground as I waved my wand at the pellet gun from the duck shooting stall. Nothing happened. I frowned at it, but it remained unchanged. I tried again, poking the wand at the gun in a stabbing motion, "I said 'Transform'!"
Still nothing. There I was, dressed like some sort of stage magician, in a tight-fitting tuxedo and fishnet tights, and I couldn't even perform magic. I cast a tired look over my shoulder at the client, shifting on his feet, looking awkward. He was the Dreamer, he was the one granting me power while I was here. So I asked him, "How do I make this work?"
"You have to say it backwards." He shrugged, as if the answer had been obvious. Of course it was. Dream logic. I sighed, and turned my gaze back to the gun, then I waved my wand again, image fixed in my mind, squinting in concentration as I worked out how to say, "Mrof...snart!"
In a cartoonish puff of smoke, the pellet gun was replaced with the AK 47 I'd been picturing. I picked it up and tossed it to the client. He caught it, looking at it like it might explode or something.
"Now what?" He asked.
"Now we take a ride." I said, nodding towards the Tunnel of Love. A rumbling sound echoed from within, like the growling of some beast.
He gulped. "Couldn't we go for coffee instead?"
"I'm afraid not." I shook my head, smirking, then gestured towards the tunnel, encouraging him onward. He reluctantly crept over to the entrance and stepped inside.
"Um...etanimulli." I muttered, my wand lighting up like a torch as I followed him inside, my lips tugging upward in a smile of grim anticipation.
All this trouble just to cure a phobia.