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Originally Posted by Chibi Neko
I wish that customers would stop calling to my call center.
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Wish granted. You are unbothered by calls at your job, and for a while things are peaceful, until your boss, seeing the sudden massive drop in productivity, fires you. Try as you might, you are unable to find a new job, and you end up on the streets, living in a cardboard box and fighting with hobos in order to drink their sweet sweet hobo wine, made from fermented rats, orange peels, and half-chewed Juicy Fruit.
I wish to be immortal.
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