The horse rapes your 10 courtesans, and is subsequently killed by an angry mob of 300 peasants. In order to quell the untimely uprising, your army of skilled soldiers slaughters the peasants in a horrible massacre. Smelling blood and hearing the sounds of battle, your Dragon breaks free from its pen and swoops over the battlefield, killing many, and feasting on the dying flesh of your once-loyal subjects. Now having tasted blood, the dragon is no longer your pet, and turns your castle full of gold into its lair. It is now an evil dragon that broods over its endless piles of gold, slaying the occasional foolish adventurer. You are mocked and denounced as a fool and a wastrel who wished for too much without thinking of the consequences, and banished from the land for all eternity. You die of sorrow 10 years later in your cave in a lonely mountain. A special type of luminous fungus grows on your corpse, which attracts a horny mountain goat... and the rest, as they say, is history...
I wish for a suit of golden armour that will protect me from all misfortunes and give me eternal life.