One day, after a particularly severe downpour, an Indiana farmer was out inspecting his property when he saw something half-buried in the mud. He took hold of it, drew it from the muck, and began to wipe it off when suddenly, in a blast of smoke and ozone, a genie appeared, hovering in the air before him.
"You have freed me from my prison, good sir, and now in payment, I offer you three wishes of your choosing," the genie intoned.
The farmer thought for a moment, then said, "Alright then. For my first wish, I want you to completely wreck the corn field of William Woodcut. I lent that bozo fifty dollars ten years ago, and every time I come to collect, he ain't got the cash. Blow up his corn crop real good, and that'll teach him a lesson."
The genie frowned and bit his lip. "Um...actually, I'm forbidden from directly harming another person or property through the use of a wish. Perhaps you'd simply like your fifty dollars back?"
"Naw, I'll think of something else." The farmer thought for a few minutes, then said, "OK, I know. For my first wish, I want all the boys from the high school up north there to jump in their pickup trucks, drive straight over here fast as they possibly can, and do a bunch of donuts and figure-eights in my back yard there, then go back the way they came."
The genie stared at him. "But...that doesn't make any sense. Why would you want that? It will wreck your lawn."
"Never you mind that, that's what I want. That's my wish."
Confused, the genie snapped his fingers. A few minutes went by, then, driving cross-country, hootin' and hollerin' up a storm, all the boys from the high school up north with pickup trucks came barreling into the farmer's back yard. Within minutes, the entire yard was a complete pit of mud and tire tracks, and the boys in the trucks all took off back the way they came.
"And...for your second wish?" the genie asked.
The farmer walked to his front yard, looked around, then turned to the genie and said, "For my second wish, I want all the boys from that high school up north there to get into their pickup trucks, drive straight over here fast as they can, and do a bunch of figure-eights and donuts here in my front yard, then turn around and go back the way they came."
The genie frowned in confusion. "But...that will destroy the garden your wife has worked so hard to plant, to say nothing of what it will do to your grass and topsoil and-"
"Yeah, well, that's my business now, ain't it?" the farmer snapped. "Now go on, get to grantin'!"
With an even more confused look than the first time, the genie snapped his fingers. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a horde of high school guys in their pickup trucks came roaring in cross-country. They zoomed into the farmer's front yard, spinning wheels, pulling tight turns, and revving up huge holes with their tires before finally turning around and driving off the way they came across the farmer's back yard.
"I'm almost afraid to ask," said the genie, "but...for your third wish? Maybe a boost to the retirement fund, or an entirely new lawn, or a larger house, or-?"
"Nope!" The farmer pointed at his side yard. "For my third wish, I want all the boys from that high school up north there to jump in their pickup trucks, drive straight out here fast as they can, and do a bunch of donuts and figure-eights and spin-outs and everything else there in my side yard, then go back the way they came."
"What on earth is wrong with you?" demanded the genie. "That will kill every sapling you planted there last spring! It will destroy the fence you worked so hard to build! All the rhubarb that grows wild by the road will be torn out! I don't understand!"
"You don't gotta," said the farmer. "That's my wish. You gonna grant it, or what?"
The genie sighed, snapped his fingers, and waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, within a few minutes, they both heard the roar of engines and the blaring Country music as the pack of teenagers from the local high school returned in their pickups. By the time they left, there was't a blade of grass to be found anywhere, and the entire yard was rutted and pitted to such a savage degree it would take years to return to its former glory. The farmer, looking around at all the devastation, then at the tail lights of the receding trucks still visible bouncing in the distance, began laughing uncontrollably.
The genie waited until the farmer got hold of his senses, then regarded him with a look of abject curiosity. "Your wishes have been granted, and I am free to go...but before I leave, I must know: why?"
"Well," the farmer chuckled, "I jus' figured that in order for them boys in them trucks to drive straight over here to wreck my yards, they had to cut through William Woodcut's corn field six times!"