"Reality Remote: Shaping the Unthinkable"
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"Hey, dude, can you come over?" I asked into my phone, pacing around my living room, the sleek black remote burning a hole in my pocket. Not literally, of course, but the thing had that kind of presence.
From the other end, Jake's voice crackled with excitement. "Sure, Matt. What's up?"
"Just bought a new gadget I want to show you. Some sci-fi stuff."
"On my way." Jake's enthusiasm was contagious.
I ended the call and glanced at the remote, its buttons reflecting the muted light of the TV screen. The Reality Remote, an obscure find from an even more obscure corner of the web. Instructions had been sparse, almost mystical—just enough to let me know it could manipulate reality in ways we'd previously only dreamed of.
Minutes later, Jake burst through the door. He was armed with his usual six-pack of beer and an insatiable curiosity.
"Alright, Matt, show me," he grinned.
"Not so fast," I replied, trying to mask my eagerness. I flipped channels until we landed on a talk show featuring Christina Hendricks. Her red hair and sharp eyes were impossible to miss.
"Dude, Christina Hendricks is just... wow," Jake muttered, eyes glued to the screen.
Seizing the opportunity, I discreetly aimed the remote first at Christina and then at Jake. The world seemed to shiver for a fraction of a second, realigning itself with an unsettling smoothness.
"Sooooo hot," Jake began to say, then blinked. He was now in Christina Hendricks' voluptuous body, wearing his clothes. He shot me a bemused look. "Dude, why are you staring? Weird."
I nearly choked on my response, but managed to compose myself. "Jake, I was just... admiring your... uh, outfit?"
Jake glanced down. "Yeah, it's a little snug in some places," he said, adjusting his shirt around Christina's—his—ample chest. He seemed oblivious to the monumental change. It was as if he’d always been that way.
"So, Jake,” I asked, trying to stifle a grin, “How do you deal with, you know, having... them?”
He laughed. "Man, it's such a pain. Do you know how heavy these things are? And I'm the only guy on the block who has boobs. It's like carrying around two extra bowling balls. Try running with these."
I nodded sympathetically, though the absurdity almost made me burst out laughing. "Must be tough."
"Yeah, but whatever," he shrugged. "Hey, wanna play some video games?"
We moved to the couch, while I marveled at how seamlessly reality had adapted to the swap. Jake picked up a PlayStation controller, only to struggle momentarily with his—Christina's—long, manicured nails. It was surreal seeing those elegant fingers fumble with the buttons.
"Geez, these nails. Bet you’ve never had to deal with breaking one of these on the controller," he complained, then tossed his hair back—a move so natural, it was as if he'd practiced it his whole life.
I chuckled, trying to play it off. "Yeah, might wanna be careful.”
“Whatever," he said, diving into the game. "Prepare to lose, Matt.”
But for once, I wasn’t focused on winning or losing. I couldn’t stop wondering what other changes the remote could make. Photos had to be next. Just how deep did this thing go?
"So, Jake," I said, nonchalantly, as we waited for the game to load. "Ever wonder what your life would be like in someone else's shoes?"
He looked over, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "What kind of weird question is that?"
"Just curious," I grinned, patting my pocket where the remote lay, ready for its next test. The possibilities were endless, and reality was mine to shape.
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 wanted to test the limits of my new reality remote. I invited my friend over so I could test it on someone. I needed to do it without him knowing. We were watching tv and Christina Hendricks was doing an interview. I aimed the remote at her and then my friend who was in the middle of commenting how hot he thought Christina looked. Now she’s sitting next to me in his clothes. They swapped bodies and reality has shifted so both of them are unaware of the changes. My buddy now has Christina's curvy body and massive boobs and he thinks its normal. This reality remote is awesome, maybe I should go look at some photos and see if they've changed as well. I asked him about his boobs and he rolls his eyes and talks about how annoying it is that he is the only guy who has boobs and how heavy they can be. Maybe we could play some video games, if he can actually play with those long manicured nails, he'll probably break a nail on my PlayStation controller.
Response: "Hey, dude, can you come over?" I asked into my phone, pacing around my living room, the sleek black remote burning a hole in my pocket. Not literally, of course, but the thing had that kind of presence. From the other end, Jake's voice crackled with excitement. "Sure, Matt. What's up?" "Just bought a new gadget I want to show you. Some sci-fi stuff." "On my way." Jake's enthusiasm was contagious. I ended the call and glanced at the remote, its buttons reflecting the muted light of the TV screen. The Reality Remote, an obscure find from an even more obscure corner of the web. Instructions had been sparse, almost mystical—just enough to let me know it could manipulate reality in ways we'd previously only dreamed of. Minutes later, Jake burst through the door. He was armed with his usual six-pack of beer and an insatiable curiosity. "Alright, Matt, show me," he grinned. "Not so fast," I replied, trying to mask my eagerness. I flipped channels until we landed on a talk show featuring Christina Hendricks. Her red hair and sharp eyes were impossible to miss. "Dude, Christina Hendricks is just... wow," Jake muttered, eyes glued to the screen. Seizing the opportunity, I discreetly aimed the remote first at Christina and then at Jake. The world seemed to shiver for a fraction of a second, realigning itself with an unsettling smoothness. "Sooooo hot," Jake began to say, then blinked. He was now in Christina Hendricks' voluptuous body, wearing his clothes. He shot me a bemused look. "Dude, why are you staring? Weird." I nearly choked on my response, but managed to compose myself. "Jake, I was just... admiring your... uh, outfit?" Jake glanced down. "Yeah, it's a little snug in some places," he said, adjusting his shirt around Christina's—his—ample chest. He seemed oblivious to the monumental change. It was as if he’d always been that way. "So, Jake,” I asked, trying to stifle a grin, “How do you deal with, you know, having... them?” He laughed. "Man, it's such a pain. Do you know how heavy these things are? And I'm the only guy on the block who has boobs. It's like carrying around two extra bowling balls. Try running with these." I nodded sympathetically, though the absurdity almost made me burst out laughing. "Must be tough." "Yeah, but whatever," he shrugged. "Hey, wanna play some video games?" We moved to the couch, while I marveled at how seamlessly reality had adapted to the swap. Jake picked up a PlayStation controller, only to struggle momentarily with his—Christina's—long, manicured nails. It was surreal seeing those elegant fingers fumble with the buttons. "Geez, these nails. Bet you’ve never had to deal with breaking one of these on the controller," he complained, then tossed his hair back—a move so natural, it was as if he'd practiced it his whole life. I chuckled, trying to play it off. "Yeah, might wanna be careful.” “Whatever," he said, diving into the game. "Prepare to lose, Matt.” But for once, I wasn’t focused on winning or losing. I couldn’t stop wondering what other changes the remote could make. Photos had to be next. Just how deep did this thing go? "So, Jake," I said, nonchalantly, as we waited for the game to load. "Ever wonder what your life would be like in someone else's shoes?" He looked over, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "What kind of weird question is that?" "Just curious," I grinned, patting my pocket where the remote lay, ready for its next test. The possibilities were endless, and reality was mine to shape.
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