"The Reality Remote: A Body-Swap Comedy"
0 Points
0
The park was resplendent with laughter, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the distant sound of someone driving ice-cream music really off-pitch. I stood next to Alex, the reality remote hidden casually under my jacket, while he babbled on about sports stats and fantasy leagues that I couldn't care less about. My eyes wandered until they found the bright shock of fiery red hair sitting on a park bench.
"Bro, check out the redhead," I whispered, nudging Alex with my elbow.
He squinted at her, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "Impressive... if you’re into that sort of thing."
"Watch this," I smirked, pulling out the remote and aiming it like I was about to zap the park into a sci-fi thriller.
With a firm click, an invisible pulse surged forward, enclosing the sporty Alex and the voluptuous redhead in its undetectable aura. Poof! Like magic—and magic with a sense of humor, at that—they swapped bodies. Alex now blinked rapidly from beneath long lashes and seemed unaware that anything had changed about him.
"Uh, dude." He began adjusting the straps on his now-very-pink bra with a confused frown. "Why am I like the only guy around with boobs? Unbelievable."
I chuckled as he went on to recount vividly uncomfortable but surprisingly normal memories of puberty. "Sports practice got awkward fast when all the guys realized boobs weren’t just fun for them."
"What?" I gasped, trying not to burst into laughter, "You’ve always had... those?"
Alex nodded earnestly. "Yeah, you remember too, right? Remember that time at the lake? Bikini shopping for us was such a hassle. I mean, who knew most swimwear wasn’t one-size-fits-all?"
Mentally pinching myself, I pulled out my phone for photographic proof of our friendship history. Gallery scrolling brought up assorted snapshots of summer trips, school events, and holiday costumes—every single photo now starring my newly buxom partner-in-crime. There we were, grinning goofily in Halloween attire; me as a soldier and Alex, with his newly swapped body, a cowboy in an outfit suggestive enough to make any sheriff blush. It was indeed the reality remote's finest work.
"Hungry yet?" I asked, ready to steer us away from potential disasters, and into more confounding escapades.
We strolled into a café, and almost instantly, the waiter misfired on a subtlety arrow, assuming us to be on a cozy date. "Would Madam prefer sparkling or still water?"
Alex smacked the table. "Madam? If one more person calls me that…"
I patted his tiny purse-shaped hand gently, chortling. "It sounds like you’re talking from experience."
"Oh please," he groaned rubbing his temples, "Remember Cancun? No matter what I wore, everyone thought we were on our honeymoon. I still can’t explain that boat party incident without laughing so hard I cry."
Drinks arrived, and Alex leaned back with a faux sense of accomplishment, knocking ketchup off the table with his newly-manhattan-planted curves. Memories of our youth, vacations, and ridiculous escapades kept spilling out over lunch. Each story coiled around his new body like a yarn puppet in jest, complete with wardrobe fiascos and misunderstandings galore.
Perhaps later, the remote—an exercise in hilarity—would see more imaginative uses. For now, I reveled in Alex's embrace of reality, the friendships we forged and photos reimagined amid swells of laughter that dizzied us through dessert. Reality had indeed shifted, but done so in the humorous whirlwind only a day with Alex, the always-majestic redhead extraordinaire, could orchestrate.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: write a story with dialogue where I found a reality remote, It is a remote that can swap peoples bodies while leaving them unaware of the swap and makes them think they have always been that way. I decided on wanted to test it so I called my friend Alex over and we went to the park, I saw this busty and beautiful redhead sitting on a bench. I fired the remote at her and my friend and swapped them. Now my friend thinks he has always had her curvy and busty body his whole life. He grumbles as he adjusts his bra and complains about being the only guy around with boobs. New memories arise in him where he talks about changing in the Lockeroom and how weird it gets since all guys love boobs. He tells me all these new memories he has thar go with his new form and his new busty body. It is very interesting, maybe I'll put the remote away for now and keep him like this while we head out to get something to eat, I have a feeling it could get more interesting. Alex and you go out to eat and people think you are on a date since they think Alex is a girl and Alex gets mad because this happens all the time. He talks about other stories of going on trips with you wear he wore a bikini and even the first time he showed you his chest on a dare. Alex has all these new memories and apparently, they are all real you check your phone and see all the photos of you and him on vacation but now its the busty redhead in his place. Theres the photo of the two of you throwing up peace signs on a rollercoaster but he is swapped. The crazy photo is one where you were kids on Halloween you as a soldier him as a cowboy another halloween photo with us as superheroes but him still with his busty body, but for some reason, even as a kid he has her busty redheaded body another childhood photo of us in boys scouts but his scout uniform was low cut and showed off a ton of leg then one of the funniest photos was a school photo of me and him posing in a goofy way with him wearing a low cut green top it was hilarious. Alex acts nonchalant about all of it because it was normal to him he has always been this way in his mind.
Response: The park was resplendent with laughter, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the distant sound of someone driving ice-cream music really off-pitch. I stood next to Alex, the reality remote hidden casually under my jacket, while he babbled on about sports stats and fantasy leagues that I couldn't care less about. My eyes wandered until they found the bright shock of fiery red hair sitting on a park bench. "Bro, check out the redhead," I whispered, nudging Alex with my elbow. He squinted at her, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "Impressive... if you’re into that sort of thing." "Watch this," I smirked, pulling out the remote and aiming it like I was about to zap the park into a sci-fi thriller. With a firm click, an invisible pulse surged forward, enclosing the sporty Alex and the voluptuous redhead in its undetectable aura. Poof! Like magic—and magic with a sense of humor, at that—they swapped bodies. Alex now blinked rapidly from beneath long lashes and seemed unaware that anything had changed about him. "Uh, dude." He began adjusting the straps on his now-very-pink bra with a confused frown. "Why am I like the only guy around with boobs? Unbelievable." I chuckled as he went on to recount vividly uncomfortable but surprisingly normal memories of puberty. "Sports practice got awkward fast when all the guys realized boobs weren’t just fun for them." "What?" I gasped, trying not to burst into laughter, "You’ve always had... those?" Alex nodded earnestly. "Yeah, you remember too, right? Remember that time at the lake? Bikini shopping for us was such a hassle. I mean, who knew most swimwear wasn’t one-size-fits-all?" Mentally pinching myself, I pulled out my phone for photographic proof of our friendship history. Gallery scrolling brought up assorted snapshots of summer trips, school events, and holiday costumes—every single photo now starring my newly buxom partner-in-crime. There we were, grinning goofily in Halloween attire; me as a soldier and Alex, with his newly swapped body, a cowboy in an outfit suggestive enough to make any sheriff blush. It was indeed the reality remote's finest work. "Hungry yet?" I asked, ready to steer us away from potential disasters, and into more confounding escapades. We strolled into a café, and almost instantly, the waiter misfired on a subtlety arrow, assuming us to be on a cozy date. "Would Madam prefer sparkling or still water?" Alex smacked the table. "Madam? If one more person calls me that…" I patted his tiny purse-shaped hand gently, chortling. "It sounds like you’re talking from experience." "Oh please," he groaned rubbing his temples, "Remember Cancun? No matter what I wore, everyone thought we were on our honeymoon. I still can’t explain that boat party incident without laughing so hard I cry." Drinks arrived, and Alex leaned back with a faux sense of accomplishment, knocking ketchup off the table with his newly-manhattan-planted curves. Memories of our youth, vacations, and ridiculous escapades kept spilling out over lunch. Each story coiled around his new body like a yarn puppet in jest, complete with wardrobe fiascos and misunderstandings galore. Perhaps later, the remote—an exercise in hilarity—would see more imaginative uses. For now, I reveled in Alex's embrace of reality, the friendships we forged and photos reimagined amid swells of laughter that dizzied us through dessert. Reality had indeed shifted, but done so in the humorous whirlwind only a day with Alex, the always-majestic redhead extraordinaire, could orchestrate.
Post your own comment or use AI: