Wouldn’t it be horrible if you found a genie and got a wish, but you wanted more wishes, so you said “I wish you’d be my loyal and faithful servant for eternity?” But you said servant, not slave, and your genie noticed. Now, it’s charging fair market value for its services. When you don’t ask for anything, it demands a salary. It lives with you and eats your food. You’re not sure it needs to eat, but it does, all the same.
Your dog is now its dog. There’s nothing you can do. Fido has a fickle heart.
You can’t find your sweater. You know your genie took it. You contemplate asking for it back, but nothing’s free these days. Not even your sweater.
You get a new dog so you can each have a dog. On crisp winter’s nights, your genie snuggles with both your dogs. You sit cold and alone, and consider a cat.
One day, you’re sick. Your genie is nice to you. It holds you and soothes you and makes you lemon tea. Its invoice reads “affection: $17,500.”
Your genie does your taxes and keeps your place shipshape, but make no mistake: you are its servant.