If you trade chips for cookies

"Fuck, I can't eat those," you mutter, your stomach churning in protest to the very thought.

You notice Fatty FickMitcheal, that pudgy wonder boy who gets straight As and eats anything he can; but certain things, certain things, he treasures a lot. "Hey, Payday!" you call to him, his self-assigned nickname. "I've got the yummiest thing you've ever dreamed of here, I promise! Only I can't eat it, I'm allergic, but I'll trade 'em for your butterscotch cookies."

The boy looks suspicious his big bottom lip sticks out like it's sniffing the air for lies. "These are the rarest potatoes in the world! These are Sladurgian potato chips, the best there ever have been!" you continue.

The boy's eyes light up; he has actually heard of them before?

"I am not really a child known as Payday," he answers, his form changing. "I am a genie, and I have been searching your world for some good Sludurgian potatoes for eons! I shall grant you one wish in exchange for them!"