Genie snatched the form from Lenne’s hands as soon as she finished signing it and threw it over his shoulder. It disappeared before it hit the ground, magically filing itself away by the djinn’s hand. He shared an assuring smile at this, gesturing toward the rack of clubs they had stopped in front of. A soft chuckle escaped him as fetched the woman a bag.

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s why I’m here. We’ll get you with what you need and on your way in no time.” Genie looked around the tent, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before he began to summon clubs into Lenne’s bag. “Now, seeing that you’re new I’d say we should get you a three-wood, four, five, and six hybrid – oh, seven, eight and nine irons too.” He examined the bag for a moment then snapped his fingers. “You’ll need a pitching wedge and something else…” The djinn snapped his fingers repeatedly, trying to recall the proper club he was looking for. As a result, a club continued to change into several others while he snapped. Sometimes, however, it changed into other things such as an umbrella, a baseball bat, and a tennis racket.