Grilling in Heels
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Josh and I set up the barbecue pits while Mike fumbled with the cooler. It was the usual Sunday, a time for drinks, laughter, and some solid grilling under the sun. Except, there was one major difference this time.
"Hey, boys! Need a hand with those dogs?"
We both turned to see Ryan—better known now as *Ryanna*—trotting toward us, her red, white, and blue bikini leaving very little to the imagination. Ryan was swapped into his mom’s body because of that bizarre family curse he always joked about. The reality, though, was something way stranger—and a whole lot curvier.
"Jeez, Ry, you’re gonna give someone a heart attack," I said, shaking my head.
"Hey, my eyes are up here, buddy," Ryan quipped, cupping the burgers in one hand and his well-endowed bikini top in the other, tauntingly.
Mike snorted, popping open a beer. "I feel for you, man. Or should I say ma’am now?"
Ryan just laughed, slapping his shapely thigh, the unmistakable sizzle of the grill starting to fill the air. "You think I'm feeling any different inside? Except now I know what a pain in the—back these are." He gestured to his chest, lifting the spatula like a scepter.
"Still talking sports?" I asked, trying my best to keep it normal.
"Isn't that Tom Brady's ugly mug on the Pats flag over there?" Ryan rolled his eyes, then doubled down, "Hell yeah, man. Did you see Giannis last game? Man’s a beast. Shame he's not into redheads, though." He winked, bending over provocatively to turn the burgers.
"Real subtle, Ry," I remarked, though it was impossible not to glance at least once. "You going for MVP today or just best in show?"
Ryan chuckled, his laughter somehow unnervingly the same even if it was coming out of a different body. "Just trying to keep you boys entertained. After all, we don’t want any distractions from the game tonight."
Mike lifted his bottle for a toast. "To Ryanna, the hottest—and most confusing—grillmaster around."
Ryan raised an imaginary glass, shaking his curvy hips dramatically. "I'll drink to that! Now, who’s ready for some damn good burgers?"
We all laughed, the tension easing just a bit. Because no matter how bizarre life got, friendships stayed the same.
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 Me and my buddies loved to have barbecues. My buddy had a strange family curse where one member of his family swaps bodies with the oldest child. Now my buddy is in his mom’s curvy and busty redheaded form. As awkward as it is he’s still his typical jokey and funny self, he’s just better to look at now. He seems to enjoy teasing us in his red white and blue bikini as he shakes his ass at the grill while flipping burgers. He still talks sports with us and still talks about the ladies even if he is one himself now, he is a lady with an incredible rack and an incredible ass and wide curvy hips.
Response: Josh and I set up the barbecue pits while Mike fumbled with the cooler. It was the usual Sunday, a time for drinks, laughter, and some solid grilling under the sun. Except, there was one major difference this time. "Hey, boys! Need a hand with those dogs?" We both turned to see Ryan—better known now as *Ryanna*—trotting toward us, her red, white, and blue bikini leaving very little to the imagination. Ryan was swapped into his mom’s body because of that bizarre family curse he always joked about. The reality, though, was something way stranger—and a whole lot curvier. "Jeez, Ry, you’re gonna give someone a heart attack," I said, shaking my head. "Hey, my eyes are up here, buddy," Ryan quipped, cupping the burgers in one hand and his well-endowed bikini top in the other, tauntingly. Mike snorted, popping open a beer. "I feel for you, man. Or should I say ma’am now?" Ryan just laughed, slapping his shapely thigh, the unmistakable sizzle of the grill starting to fill the air. "You think I'm feeling any different inside? Except now I know what a pain in the—back these are." He gestured to his chest, lifting the spatula like a scepter. "Still talking sports?" I asked, trying my best to keep it normal. "Isn't that Tom Brady's ugly mug on the Pats flag over there?" Ryan rolled his eyes, then doubled down, "Hell yeah, man. Did you see Giannis last game? Man’s a beast. Shame he's not into redheads, though." He winked, bending over provocatively to turn the burgers. "Real subtle, Ry," I remarked, though it was impossible not to glance at least once. "You going for MVP today or just best in show?" Ryan chuckled, his laughter somehow unnervingly the same even if it was coming out of a different body. "Just trying to keep you boys entertained. After all, we don’t want any distractions from the game tonight." Mike lifted his bottle for a toast. "To Ryanna, the hottest—and most confusing—grillmaster around." Ryan raised an imaginary glass, shaking his curvy hips dramatically. "I'll drink to that! Now, who’s ready for some damn good burgers?" We all laughed, the tension easing just a bit. Because no matter how bizarre life got, friendships stayed the same.
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