The pub was electric that night—shouts, laughter, and beer sloshing in every direction. You sat across from Amelia, both of you glued to the TV screen as her beloved Ness Castles took on their long-time rivals in the English Premier League. She had been so sure. “So confident,” you teased her before kickoff. “You really think Ness Castles can win tonight?” Amelia smirked over the rim of her pint, her English accent thick with mischief. “If they lose, I’ll grant you one wish for every goal they concede. But when we win, you’re taking me to Glasgow for a weekend, all expenses paid and whatever torture I can think up” You both shook on it. Ninety brutal minutes later, her arms were crossed, a sulky pout on her lips as the scoreboard mocked her: 5 - 0 You grinned. “Five wishes. That’s what we agreed.” “The Hell?! Don’t push it,” she muttered, already halfway through her second consolation cider. “They were down a man! The pitch was awful!” “A bet is a bet, Amelia. No excuses Sunshine.” She narrowed her eyes, but you could see the edges of a smile twitching at her lips. “Fine. But nothing outrageous.” “Okay, wish one,” you said, leaning forward with a smug grin. “I want you to wear the rival team’s jersey for a full day, while I ravage your brains out….” Her face went pale. “That’s … that's bloody cruel, mate….”