John was the most unlucky guy alive. Ask a man in India who the most unlucky person in the world is, and he’d say John. John lives in America. He spent his free time sitting in a lush green field, looking for funny looking flora. John had no friends.

He tended to ignore everyone else. That could also be why he had no friends. Or the fact that he was uglier than sin itself. Whatever the reason, he didn’t let it bother him. Another day, another sitting in the green field as he carefully prods through the delicate weeds, John breathes.. Then, almost out of thin air, a four-leaf clover emerged from the ground. It almost seemed too unreal to be real. The small clover shimmered in the emerald green sea of weeds. 

Without any hesitation, he nabbed the clover with immense force. Finally, John could feel the surge of luck and power in him. Summoning lightning from his fingertips and breaking trees with one hand, he felt unstoppable. 

Suddenly, John snapped back to reality. No lightning struck shrubs or downed trees. He figured it wasn’t going to work.

“I wish I had at least some strength,” John mumbled, pressing the clover into the clear pocket in his wallet.

John’s day went on, and at the end of the long walk home, he threw on a pair of pajamas and fell into bed. Upon waking up, John threw the blanket off of him to turn off his alarm. The blanket broke through the wall, and the clock was now just a pile of sharded plastic bits. 

John was ecstatic, beginning to lift things with only one hand. Then, suddenly, he realized where his strength had come from. He looked at his hands.  They about the size of a forty pound pumpkin each. Andre the Giant would be put to shame with John’s masculine hands.

He frantically opened his wallet and observed the four-leaf clover. One of the four petals had withered into nothing but brown dust. John was antisocial, and very unlucky, but he was not an idiot. His wish count had dwindled down to three. 

“No problem,” he thought, “I’ll just ask for more wishes.” John confidently whipped out his magic little buddy.

“I wish for unlimited wishes.” John stood proudly, waiting for the withered petal to revitalize itself. Nothing happened. In fact, one of the three remaining petals also dwindled.

“This is not at all what I wanted,” John sighed. He shrugged, and chose to simply deal with his unnaturally large hands. You know what they say about big hands; big arthritis. Upon stepping outside, the grass seemed different. Less pointy, more round. John, being the higher intellectual he is, had noticed the grass was all four leaf clovers. No problem, just pick as many as you can and you’d be good, right?

John, with all the blood going to his hands and not his brains, had forgotten to account for other people also picking the clovers. After about five minutes of walking to school, a gigantic commercial airplane crashed directly into the school’s main building. Following about another 750 airplanes and bombs and alien invaders taking students, John had figured out what he had done

An eight-foot-seven teenager with muscles large enough to bend a tank’s barrel into a pretzel sprinted by John. The teenager probably didn’t wish for his clothes to size with him, as the boy was fully naked. 

“What in the actual hell-” John began to say to himself, before he saw a helicopter and T-Rex hybrid fly across the sky. exhaust was shooting buttered pop-tarts across the sky. What do you fuel something like that with? Who knows. 

“Alright. This is fine. Nothing too harmful yet.” John said, as he turned back around to be faced by Thanos. Someone had obviously wished for Thanos to be real, not realizing the drawback of that wish.

Now, John is once again no fool, and whipped out his magic little buddy.

“I wish for this all to go away!” John shouted valiantly into Thanos’ face. Then, just like that, John existed in a white void. At least, his consciousness was existing. He himself, however, could not see, feel, hear, or move anywhere. This isn’t exactly what he wanted.

No problem. Just wish for everything to go back to normal. John whipped out his magic little bu-

Scratch that, everything is gone. Nothing exists and the little bit of consciousness John had left was fading. No clover, no John, no wishes. The last of John’s consciousness vanished, and everything that was had been. Nothing could be. Everything just didn’t.

So, just like that, John’s luck had run out.