"Cloned Chaos: A Mother's Misguided Wish"
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**Title: A Cloning Conundrum**
The crescent moon cast a gentle glow through the living room window, illuminating a scene that Jessica Parker had seen one too many times. There her husband, Dan, was, lazily sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to ESPN. Her three sons, Justin, Matt, and Ryan, were huddled upstairs, their laughter interspersed with the occasional loud smack of controllers.
"Dinner's ready!" Jessica bellowed, for the umpteenth time, as frustration frayed her last nerve. She rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated. "What does it take to get their attention?"
Jessica glanced at herself in the hallway mirror: curvaceous figure, busty, dressed in her favorite green low-cut blouse and perfectly fitting mom jeans. She couldn’t help but wish her family would be more like her—efficient, responsive, and capable of multitasking. Oh, if only they could be a little more like her.
She closed her eyes and wished harder than she ever had before. When she opened them, the house fell silent. A foreboding chill crept up her spine. She walked back into the living room, only to find... herself. Sitting on the couch. With a beer wedged between her cleavage.
"What the actual...?" she muttered. The clone's eyes were still fixed on the TV.
"Hey honey, something on your mind?" 'Dan' took a casual sip of beer and winked—at herself.
"Dan, is that you?"
"Of course! Who else would it be?" Dan replied, oblivious to the change.
"Oh no," was all Jessica could muster. She ran upstairs to find her sons but nearly tripped over her own legs—three times in rapid succession. She burst into the boys' room, and there they were, yet again—three clones, grappling in a mock-wrestling match.
"Moooom, Matt pulled my hair!" One of the Jessicas whined, punching another Jessica right in the cleavage.
"Guys, quit it!" she yelled.
"But he started it! Wait... what are you doing upstairs?" Another Jessica asked, momentarily pausing the melee.
"You’re all... me!"
The boys—well, boys, except now each looked like their mother, from the green low-cut blouse to the mom jeans—exchanged confused glances, sagged shoulders, and resumed their round of "Boob Blaster: Mom Edition."
Dinner was an even weirder ordeal than she'd imagined. The sight of herself shepherding herself to the dinner table felt like an out-of-body experience gone terribly wrong. Her clone-family continued their usual conversation, blissfully unaware of the absurdity.
"Man, that girl at school gave me the weirdest look today," Justin-Jessica said, shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into his—her?—mouth.
"Maybe it was your... y'know," Matt-Jessica giggled, pointing at their shared, eye-catching attribute.
"Mom," Ryan-Jessica turned to Original Jessica with an air of earnestness that felt so surreal coming from her own face. "Any tips on how to deal with girls giggling at our... uh, assets?"
"Alright, enough!" Jessica stood abruptly. "I wanted you to be a bit more like me, not *exactly* like me! If you can't see how absurd this is, then I'm... I'm..."
"Crazy?" Dan-Jessica offered, raising the beer bottle in mock toast.
Jessica sighed deeply. "I'm going to bed. Maybe when I wake up, this will all be a bad dream."
She trudged upstairs, opened the bedroom door, and found herself—sitting on her bed, looking equally confused. Great. She didn't even know who got to claim the bed tonight.
As she laid down on what used to be *her* side, surrounded by four other versions of herself, she couldn't help but rue her wish gone wrong.
In the end, Jessica learned a valuable lesson: yelling doesn’t work on clones. And wishing on a star might just have... side effects.
Despite the chaos, her clone-family's antics managed to make her smile. Maybe, just maybe, they'd work as a team, multifaceted but united under one guiding principle: never wish for anything while frazzled.
Who knows, perhaps this clone confusion would resolve by morning. If not, she knew one thing for sure—next time, she’d be more specific with her wishes.
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: A story with lots of dialogue where a curvaceous and busty mother is angry that nobody in the house seems to listen to her. She rolls her eyes seeing her three sons play video games even though she called for dinner a half an hour ago. Her husband is watching ESPN on the tv. She sighs and wishes that her family could be like her. That's when everyone morphed into an exact clone of her. None of them saw the problem with it. Her husband now wearing her green low cut blouse had a beer between his cleavage and was still watching tv. Her three kids all dressed in the same green low cut blouse and mom jeans were pulling each others hair and punching each others boobs while playing some video games and rough housing upstairs. This isn't what she wanted was a family full of... well her. Finally everyone came down for dinner all clones of their curvy and busty mom and curvy and busty wife. They still are having their normal conversations about asking out girls and about work and how one girl at school at looked at their boobs. It was crazy.
Response: **Title: A Cloning Conundrum** The crescent moon cast a gentle glow through the living room window, illuminating a scene that Jessica Parker had seen one too many times. There her husband, Dan, was, lazily sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to ESPN. Her three sons, Justin, Matt, and Ryan, were huddled upstairs, their laughter interspersed with the occasional loud smack of controllers. "Dinner's ready!" Jessica bellowed, for the umpteenth time, as frustration frayed her last nerve. She rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated. "What does it take to get their attention?" Jessica glanced at herself in the hallway mirror: curvaceous figure, busty, dressed in her favorite green low-cut blouse and perfectly fitting mom jeans. She couldn’t help but wish her family would be more like her—efficient, responsive, and capable of multitasking. Oh, if only they could be a little more like her. She closed her eyes and wished harder than she ever had before. When she opened them, the house fell silent. A foreboding chill crept up her spine. She walked back into the living room, only to find... herself. Sitting on the couch. With a beer wedged between her cleavage. "What the actual...?" she muttered. The clone's eyes were still fixed on the TV. "Hey honey, something on your mind?" 'Dan' took a casual sip of beer and winked—at herself. "Dan, is that you?" "Of course! Who else would it be?" Dan replied, oblivious to the change. "Oh no," was all Jessica could muster. She ran upstairs to find her sons but nearly tripped over her own legs—three times in rapid succession. She burst into the boys' room, and there they were, yet again—three clones, grappling in a mock-wrestling match. "Moooom, Matt pulled my hair!" One of the Jessicas whined, punching another Jessica right in the cleavage. "Guys, quit it!" she yelled. "But he started it! Wait... what are you doing upstairs?" Another Jessica asked, momentarily pausing the melee. "You’re all... me!" The boys—well, boys, except now each looked like their mother, from the green low-cut blouse to the mom jeans—exchanged confused glances, sagged shoulders, and resumed their round of "Boob Blaster: Mom Edition." Dinner was an even weirder ordeal than she'd imagined. The sight of herself shepherding herself to the dinner table felt like an out-of-body experience gone terribly wrong. Her clone-family continued their usual conversation, blissfully unaware of the absurdity. "Man, that girl at school gave me the weirdest look today," Justin-Jessica said, shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into his—her?—mouth. "Maybe it was your... y'know," Matt-Jessica giggled, pointing at their shared, eye-catching attribute. "Mom," Ryan-Jessica turned to Original Jessica with an air of earnestness that felt so surreal coming from her own face. "Any tips on how to deal with girls giggling at our... uh, assets?" "Alright, enough!" Jessica stood abruptly. "I wanted you to be a bit more like me, not *exactly* like me! If you can't see how absurd this is, then I'm... I'm..." "Crazy?" Dan-Jessica offered, raising the beer bottle in mock toast. Jessica sighed deeply. "I'm going to bed. Maybe when I wake up, this will all be a bad dream." She trudged upstairs, opened the bedroom door, and found herself—sitting on her bed, looking equally confused. Great. She didn't even know who got to claim the bed tonight. As she laid down on what used to be *her* side, surrounded by four other versions of herself, she couldn't help but rue her wish gone wrong. In the end, Jessica learned a valuable lesson: yelling doesn’t work on clones. And wishing on a star might just have... side effects. Despite the chaos, her clone-family's antics managed to make her smile. Maybe, just maybe, they'd work as a team, multifaceted but united under one guiding principle: never wish for anything while frazzled. Who knows, perhaps this clone confusion would resolve by morning. If not, she knew one thing for sure—next time, she’d be more specific with her wishes.
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