Granted. Now he's the Edward Cullen of star wars.

I wish people would post more ads for games I'd be interested in.

Granted, your standards have dropped for counts as an interesting game.

I wish public universities had more original essay prompts.

Granted. Now every other essay is about the Battle of Lexington and/or the latest lawsuit.

I wish Guild Wars ads wouldn't pop up when I'm clearly not interested after not having clicked them. Ever.

Granted. You see no more guildwars ads, ever...because you've lost all interwebs and can never go back. Mwahahaha!

I wish for the simultaneous, spiritual enlightenment of 30% of earth's living population, such that no matter how the population fluctuates, exactly 30% are always enlightened.

Granted. 30% of the humans and all other organisms on the planet now glow faintly. Several species that react to light eventually dwindle, then die out.

The majority of affected humans have trouble sleeping and end up quite cranky. With bouts of insomnia hitting roughly 30% of the world, car accidents, medical disasters and clerical errors spike to unprecedented highs, not to mention fatigue-related arguments. Meanwhile, a confused populous come up with a half-dozen different reasons why some people now glow, most contradictory. Several international groups eventually spawn around ideological lines on the matter, which leads into several decades of heavy violence, a 'We Are the World' campaign and at least two new religions.

I wish the world used base eight instead of base 10 for counting.

Granted. Everybody but you suddenly understands the new numerical system.

I wish I didn't have to play sports to stay fit.

Granted. You can also exercise and/or work out to stay fit!

I wish for the most boring wish in the world.

Granted. The sheer drudgery of your wish kills you in a completely uninteresting manner.

I wish to master bees.

Granted. All the world knows you for your skillfully mastery of the letter 'B'. The sight of your artful and skillfully crafted B's can bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened man, and that is only the written version. By just uttering the single syllable, you can make crowds rise up out of their seats to applaud your performance. Eventually, your unearned success begins to fill you with guilt and shame. Near the end of your life, you swear off the letter B entirely. Refusing to even use words that contain the wretched letter. On your deathbed, you utter a single last syllable, 'D'. For generations to come, scholars debate the meaning of your final statement. The question has sparked many fierce debates. An award winning novel was adapted about one of the more extravagant and dramatic theories. A motion picture cinematic, based on the novel was released and was hailed as an instant classic. Several remakes would be made after that, but all of them would pale in comparison to the original classic. However, if you're not comparing them, a good number of them are decent in their own right.

In the distant future, you are officially recognized as both a master of the letter 'B', as well as the letter 'D'.

And you lived happily ever after.

I wish everyone who wanted food could make a sandwich appear in front of them.

Granted.
Everyone who has ever wanted food now has the ability to make a sandwich appear in front of them.
Sadly, they do not have the ability to not make a sandwich appear in front of them.
The entire world drowns in sandwiches.

I wish to be young and healthy forever.