In a Nancy Reagan anti-drug inspired moment of brilliance, our poorly wrought heroine shouted, "No!" as she removed the towel from her head and snapped the geriatric djinn right in the mug.

The thoroughtly confused djinn vanished in a puff of logic. Dinka thanked (insert deity here) that she had recently taken a night course in British Sci-fi/Comedy Literature.

She looked disconcertedly around the room. "That's funny. My lantern's gone but the room is still lit." Dinka was still puzzling over this fortuitous continuity error when she nearly stepped on Verne Troyer. "Watch where you're going!" the midget shouted.

"Sorry. I was a bit preoccupied."

"Forget it." He reached in his pocket and withdrew a small tin container. "Mint?"

"Thanks." Dinka peered at the tiny blue and red tablets in the tin. She snatched a red mint and popped it in her mouth. Out of the bottom edge of her sight she thought she saw a blob of lime green Jell-o (with pear chunks, if she wasn't mistaken) skitter across the room. Turning around to avoid Mr. Troyer, she bumps into something squishy.