The Publishing Fairy Godfather has just materialized in your writing space. He is a nearsighted bald fat man in a powder blue tux with a yellow sequined cummerbund that is one size too small. He smells of old money (reserves against returns) and old slush pile manuscripts (pages of which are stuck to the back of his heels.)
"I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse." He sets down his martini glass, refills it with straight gin, and regards you over a toothpick adorned with two green olives and a former literary agent's pickled testicle. "You get one wish."
You immediately say, "I wish for--"
The Publishing Fairy Godfather wags his hairy finger at you. "No can do. My powers only extend to your writing and the publishing industry."
You then say, "I wish for--"
"Only Cinderella's Fairy Godmother can grant that, and she's tied up in Vegas outfitting Wayne Newton for his next show," the Publishing Fairy Godfather informs you. "Pick something else."
The Publishing Fairy Godfather lights up a Havana cigar with a flaming midlist author's last contract. "Did I mention after you that I've got to go and visit a plague of toads and cockroaches on that Frey guy for abusing the wish I granted him?"
Now post your answer to the Publishing Fairy Godfather in comments.