Granted, but you're quickly captured by federal agents and studied like the alien you are. It's a shame you've been dissected by the time they realize you're basically just a green neanderthal.
I wish I was a worgen in real life.
Granted. Every single elf RPer drops dead. Including you.
I wish I could eat Taco Bell without instantly feeling regret and death's hand on my shoulder.
Granted. He finally gets the balls to climb in. Your body is found four weeks later by the river.
I wish I could have an infinite source of Arnold Palmer Iced Tea.
That sounds like "That Guy" levels of shit. The evil wizard in our group thought it was an ok idea to just kill quest givers because he was a sociopath. So my Cleric told him "No, you need to stop." Before inevitably hunting him down and dispensing the justice of Moradin. Which was a dwarven hammer to the back of the skull.
Shit where to begin.
I had a campaign I was a part of where our characters were transported to the plane of "metal" as in the music genre.
I had a wizard who was possessed by an eldritch tentacle demon and made the rogue in our party explode like a balloon filled with blood.
My cleric had an entire religion formed around him after he died.
A barbarian who's clan was wiped out by a werewolf , thought turning into a werewolf to fight fire with fire was the best solution and it backfired horribly.
My stoner druid 1v1'd a Lich.
And that's just for D&D.
Granted. The flies have been consumed by giant spiders the size of beachballs, and your room is no longer your room, but the spiders.
I wish I didn't have to constantly work out to keep in shape.
Granted, but since you didn't specify what kind of money, you get a million Zanzibarbucks, which converts into roughly 13 US dollars.
I wish I could roleplay a femworgen without instantly being called a futa furry.