“Hello, you have reached Horrible Asteroid AVON’s Not-Wish Granting Service,” spoke a gloomy voice, “My name is Zero Two. How may I help you?”

“Yes, well I-” Marx paused, “Zero Two? Why are you takin’ AVON’s calls?”

“Oh, hey Marx.” said the unenthusiastic overlord, “Sorry to hear you got beat again. I’ve been running AVON’s communications for a while.”

“…Why?”

“It lets me talk to people without them running away.” explained Zero Two.

“Ah. Suppose conversations would be rather difficult, what with being a giant eyeball monster and all.”

“They really are…” moped the eyeball.

“Your social shortcoming aside,” continued Marx, “I’ve got a not-wish to make. Let me talk to AVON so I can rule Popstar, already.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” stated Zero Two, “AVON’s in a state of disrepair, so he’s unable to dis-grant wishes at the moment. I’ve been writing down all the wishes sent to him, so that he can take care of them once he’s fixed up.”

“…How many wishes are we talking about?” inquired the jester.

“Seven, maybe eight hundred.”

Marx was taken aback.

“What!? How can that be? No one uses that un-wishing asteroid!”

“You’d be surprised how many calls add up over ten years.”

“Ten years!?” exclaimed Marx.

“Yes. It’s hard to find a good mechanic in the void of space.”

“You’ve been taking this deadbeat’s calls for a decade?”

“It’s actually quite nice.” noted the red-eyed globule, “When calls come in, I get a chance to talk about sports, recent events, weather…”

Zero Two paused.

“Speaking of which, how about that weather?”

Marx hung up, scowling.

“No lucks, boss?” asked Blippy.

“Nope. AVON’s busted up, and Mr. Hidden Final Boss is writing down all the wishes he has to not-grant.“ Marx returned the cell phone to his hammerspace pocket and sighed, “We’ll be bearded and shriveled by the time he gets to my wish.”

“So whatta we do, den?”

Marx contemplated this question. Suddenly, inspiration struck, “We’re a competent enough duo, right? All we need to do is find AVON, and fix the old scrapheap up ourselves.”

"How'sa we do dat, boss?"

"Jeez! All we have to do is...."

"Is...?"

"Well okay! I dont know! Sue me!"

The jester and his companion set off, somewhere not exactly established, somewhere with resources. They took the fellow wish wanters with them, in hopes that 800 normal guys would be able to build better than 10 engineers.

After many miles of travelling, and many hours of sleep and food, they found a sign that had the letters "AVON" on a black frame.

"Salvation! Come on guys! This is our chance to get all those overdue wishes!"

The crowd that Marx led cheered immensely at the idea of having their not-so-wishes granted.

Marx went through the door below the sign, expecting millions of gold, shiny pieces of electronics.

But that wasnt what he got, as what he got was clothes on a round-about coat hanger, shoes on every bit of the wall, and rock music playing on the ceiling.

Marx stood still as the once eager crowd was reduced to laughing and booing.

"AHAHAHA! THE FOOL!"

"Boo! This isnt what we wanted!"

Marx the Jester turned around, with only his feet moving as his now giant eyes were tearing up in a massive combination of anger, sadness and dissapointment.

He then burst out in a wail and scream as tears covered the whole of the two-stair platform he stood on, making his fish friend, and seemingly his only friend right now, go to the top of his bowl with bouyance. The offending laughs and boos of the 800-something crowd stopped dead silent.

"He's just a boy, you bullies!"

"Aww, kid..."

*30 minnutes later*

Marx still sat on the small stair case with his fish friend, trying to sniff up every bit of negative emotion he expressed. He was severely embarassed and fooled around with, and he was in a very big huff. Which included a shoe angrily thrown into the sky.

At the lair of AVON the reverse genie, Zero Two was conversing with yet another wishwanter and AVON was busy recovering in his star-made bed when suddenly the same shoe broke through a weak walland landed right in one of AVON's holes. He was suddenly healed a slight bit, but unfortunately no one knew what did it except AVON, and he was still too sick to speak.