Cheers

"I just feel so alone, sometimes.  No hobbies.  I've lost track of my friends from high school, college, my last job."  Clifton sighed and rubbed at his mustache.  "I just wish there was a place I could go, somewhere where everybody knows my name.  I don't even have to be loved, or anything.  Just known.  Just accepted."

"GRANTED," rumbled the genie, towering over him in its column of smoke.  The cloud descended, and darkness fell.

Clifton waited. 

"Hello?"  he said at last.  "What's going on?  Is anyone there?" 

No answer.

"It's me!" he shouted into the echoing dark.  "It's Cliff!"

Deal with a Devil

"Everyone has a price," the demon hissed, dripping sulfurous slaver from its jaws.  "The only difficulty is in meeting it."  It gestured at Sandy, its black eyes losing focus briefly.  "She would let the world burn to save her mewling lover."  It laughed.  "Pity he wouldn't return the favor."  The demon pointed to Charles.  "He would slit all of your throats if doing so would give him the artistic transcendence he craves."  It turned then to Howard.  "And this one..."  It trailed off, blinking.  "Five dollars?  Truly?"

Howard shrugged.  "That's a minimum.  If I get a counter-offer, we can talk negotiations."

Surprisingly Difficult to Accomplish

"What's this?" asked Bertram. He plucked a heavy object from the clutter on the table, a thick piece of piping with what looked like a Viewmaster welded to the end of it.

"Ah, the macroscope," said Doctor Geisteskrank. "It allows you to see things that are obvious."

"Hunh." Bertram held the device to his eyes. "My word, this place is filthy."

"True," Doctor Geisteskrank chuckled.

Bertram turned slowly, looking around the workshop. Abruptly, he froze, gasping in horror.

Doctor Geisteskrank glanced up. Bertram was facing the full-length mirror. "Ah, yes," Doctor Geisteskrank said. "I should have warned you about that."

Nefarious Plans

Dan had leaned over to plug in his phone when Shannon shrieked. He slammed the brakes instinctively, but it was too late. With a heart-shuddering thump, he hit the pair of figures.

They piled out, but Dan stopped when he caught a glimpse of the faces.

"It's... it's us, even the clothes," he said. "Shannon, what...?"

"Spies? Clones? Robots? Aliens?"

It all sounded plausible. Dan rubbed his cut lip. "At least we stopped them before they could replace us, or whatever they planned." He glanced down, but said nothing about the greenish-purple tinge to the fluid leaking out of him.