If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
And if wishes were horses, genies would be cowboys. And they’d use monkey paws as lassos to wrangle up the dreams. And when two cowboy genies duel, one would say, “There ain’t room in this lamp for the both of us.” Gulches would be leprechauns and pixies would be whores in the saloons. Indians would be genies, too, but of a different race. They would hunt “buffalo” dreams, finding a use for every part, including the unattainable, until one day when the Cowboy genies kill all dreams, and the Indian genies were forced to get smallpox and die.
The wild west just got a whole lot more interesting.