Inspiration, or not?

"So a genie that lives in a neti pot?  I don't think so," I told Steve as he walked into my office, "And how many times must I ask you to wear pants?"

"At least once more.  And yes!  A neti pot.  It's gotta be a better story than that fan fiction you're working on."  He said, wiggling his hips, his nether regions flopping about like a slinky.  "I mean seriously, shadows?  Curves, turning this way and that, what kind of crap is this.  Besides, it's been done, and not very successfully either."

"So you know the story?"  I turned my back on him, I could not stand the sight of him naked any longer.  It did not help, that's the problem with inspiration, it puts images in your head.  I shuddered.

"Only what you've told me, or I've gleaned from your, I hate to call it a mind, but, yeah."

"Thanks, you know.  I should get you a membership to the library, I'd hate for you to be instilling me with ideas for stories that already existed."

"A library?  Really, and then I could do things like this!"  His pointed tail snaked into my bookcase and behind the terra cotta skull that served as a bookend and flung all of the books on to the floor.

At least he left the skull where it was.  I dove for it as soon as the thought crossed my mind.  And I managed to catch it.

"Nice reflexes."

I waited for him to fling more stuff at me, and was even ready as soon as I thought it.

"Just imagine, the genie could flow into one nostril and materialize out the other."

I did.  Of course the genie was blue, and belonged to Disney, but as he popped out he quipped "What is that smell?  Oh, it's me!"  I snickered, and out of the corner of my eye I caught a smirk on Steve's face.

"So this fan fiction stuff-"

"Yeah?"

"Why?"

"Are you upset I had an idea you didn't put in my head?"

"Think about that.  Are you sure I didn't?"

"If it's yours, why are you so down on it."

"Edison thought he was a ghost buster, but that didn't make it into the movies, did it?"

"What?"  I shook my head but Steve caught me by surprise.  Where normally his off the wall ideas popped into my head to act as inspiration for the story, instead he hit me with all of the information about what he was talking about.  For a brief second I felt like Neo in the Matrix, being taught how to fight.

And then I made one of the biggest mistakes I had made since I had met Steve.  "That would be good, a demon that did my research-  Fuck!"

It was too late, and Steve's toothy grin betrayed him.

"You bastard!  You did that on purpose."

Hips swaying, Steve tucked his hands behind his back, his tail curling up above his head to form a point halo.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

"But I do!"  He was blue, about an inch tall, and, I would learn later, knew everything.  Or at least acted like it.