The American pointed. “How much for that bottle, back there?”
Abed continued shifting the clay figures on the lower shelf. Without looking up, he said. “You do not want that vessel, sir.”
The man smirked. He pointed down. “Okay then. What about those scarves? Down there?”
Abed bent for one. “Traditional Jordanian. The finest you’ll find. How many would you like?”
When the man didn’t respond, Abed turned—in time to see him snatch the bottle from the shelf.
“This is amazing,” the American said. “Is it very old?”
“I assure you, my friend, you do not want that bottle. I beg you please, return it.”
The man tipped the bottle from side to side, peering at the top. “How do you unstop it?”
“There is no unstopping it.”
The genie roared out, filling the square with his amorphous green bulk.
“Who dares awaken Hassaan? Prepare to face my wrath!”