"I don't like wishes," he mumbled. "It always goes wrong in the end."

An image of both of them as mermaids floated into his head, complete with trailing kelp, wrecked ships on the coastline, and imprudent placement of seashells. He shut his eyes and shook his head to get rid of it. This night just got more and more unlikely by the moment.

"I think," he said, "that we are just a little bit snockered."