Nick likes Inside Snout 2, do you like Inside Snout 2?

In the midnight hush of Judy Hopps' diminutive living quarters, the air bore a heavy, pungent scent, leaping from the shadows and assaulting the senses like a band of rogue marauders. Roll up the red carpet for Nick Wilde, that rakish fox with an affinity for the odorous herb which humanity has baptized 'weed.' The greyish-green mist sauntered sinuously, evoking an air of debauched mysticism about the place. Nick's sanguine expression—equal parts sin and satisfaction—suggested he believed himself to be at the pinnacle of comedic intellect as he peppered the air with his atrocious Seth Rogen impersonations.

His words slurred and lazy, with a rich timbre of self-satisfaction, "Heh heheh, So Judy, you know what I call 'Inside Out 2’? More like 'Inside Snout 2,' huh? Get it? Get it? 'Cause, like, we have snouts?" The joke, a feeble play on rhymes, elicited an exasperated eye-roll from Judy, who now found herself radiating ire.

*******Judy, tiny and tenacious, her dander rising like a steam locomotive ready to explode, could take no more. She stomped her wee feet with the might of a thousand elephants. Her ears flicked indignantly. "Nick, I have HAD it with your stinkin’ jokes and your stinkin'—UGH—everything! Get OUT of my puny little apartment!" Her voice, though small in stature, was a thunderous clap resonating within the confined walls.

*******Yet, Nick remained as immovable as a smug Cheshire cat, wiring his thoughts into the unyielding fibers of reality with that foxy bravado. His eyes narrowed, donning a look that smacked of possessive fervor. "Nah, carrots, I ain't leavin' until you agree to bear my children, like pronto." His declaration held an unsettling cocktail of jest and truth, a yin and yang of desperate humor.

*******Biology, that relentless architect of life, roused Judy’s distaste from slumber and thrust it into the glaring spotlight. "Nick, that’s biologically impossible! Have you lost whatever semblance of a mind you had?" Her exasperation was dripping like the last drips from a faulty tap.

*******But Nick, in his indefatigable audacity, reached into the crumpled folds of his fox-worn blazer and pulled out a DVD case—a relic of human culture—splattered with vibrant colors. "Well, you ain’t seen nothin’ until you've watched ‘Inside Snout 2.’ And guess what? No orifices! How do you like THEM apples?"

*******In the grand theater of her incredulity, Judy's brain set up elaborate barricades to fend off the utter absurdity bombarding her. Alas, she was cornered, a helpless rabbit under the magnanimous gaze of her foxy roommate, trapped in an elaborate snare of weed-infused miasma and inexorably bad humor.

*******As they settled into her scanty couch, well-worn and imbued with shared memories, the television flickered to life. The animated characters pranced without mouths, eyes, or noses, embodying an eye-wateringly absurd parody of mammalian existence. Nick, basking in the glow of his own extraordinary folly, let out a delighted laugh—an almost Rogen-esque chuckle that dripped with self-satisfaction.

*******"See, Judy? This is what they call culture." His voice reverberated through the apartment—a symphony of misguided enlightenment.

*******Judy, stewing in her outrage, resigned herself to the fact that tonight, her apartment was steeped in an unfortunate amalgam of preposterousness. With a resigned sigh, embers of annoyance flickering in her eyes, she murmured under her breath.

This story was generated by user ed 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.

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