"The Comedy of Possession: A Wedding Mishap"
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Today was my wedding day. It was supposed to be the greatest day of my life. My best friend couldn't make it to the wedding since he lives far away now. At least I thought he wouldn’t make it. Apparently, he read a possession spell and accidentally possessed my wife during the ceremony. He keeps looking down at his new big boobs and laughing. The ceremony has been so weird, and people are wondering when my wife learned all these rap songs. He even started twerking his big curvy ass at the reception. We had to slow dance, and he kept making me laugh, talking about old stories from high school and teasing me for having my hand on his butt as we danced. This has been wild for me, but it has kind of been fun seeing my wife acting so free during the wedding and reception. My buddy has certainly made this wedding far more comical by possessing her body. I just hope we can figure out the reverse spell before the honeymoon.
---
"Jake, what the hell did you do?" I whispered furiously as my wife—well, my possessed wife—started rapping the entire Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song with surprising accuracy.
"Bro, I'm as confused as you are!" Jake's voice, oddly chipper, emanated from my wife’s lips. "One minute, I’m reading a spell I found online, and the next thing I know, I’ve got boobs!"
"You can't just go around possessing people, man!" I hissed.
Jake—my wife—grinned mischievously and took a reckless sip of champagne. "Dude, chill. It’s kind of fun. You should see things from this vantage point."
Our guests watched in bewilderment as my wife/Jake launched into an impromptu dance-off with our seven-year-old niece. I could hear some awkward murmurs:
"Did she just... dab?" asked Aunt Gertrude, fanning herself with a piece of pâté.
"I didn't know she could rap. Jerry, did you see that twerk?" exclaimed Cousin Jerry, while dramatically dropping a shrimp.
"I never thought I'd see the day my wife would flossdance at our wedding," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
Jake sauntered over, all wiggle and wobble in the brand-new wedding dress we'd picked out together. "Hey man, this dress is a little tight on the hips, don’t you think?"
"Not the point, Jake. Not the point."
Jake leaned in close and whispered, "Hey, at least you married a girl with a killer sense of humor!" Then, out loud, Jake—my wife—started recounting that one prank we pulled on our high school principal to the bewildered family members trying to enjoy their beef Wellington.
"Remember the time we put the live chickens in Principal Swanson's office?" Jake cackled, almost spilling the champagne. I rolled my eyes.
"Sure I do, but I don't think my new in-laws want to hear about that," I said through gritted teeth, watching their polite smiles freeze in place.
The reception was in full swing, and I was determined to have some semblance of normalcy. Unfortunately, it was hard to manage that when your best friend was using your wife’s body to perform the Macarena.
The DJ, completely caught off guard, tried to segue into something more romantic. "Uh, and now, a slow dance for the newlyweds?"
Jake grabbed my hand in an uncomfortably firm squish. "Aww, come on, buddy. Let’s show them how we really dance."
As we slow danced, Jake kept leaning in and whispering in my ear about how my hand on his new posterior was a unique experience. I tried to keep my composure, but by the fifth time he made a booty pun, I was shaking with laughter.
"Dude, remember in junior prom when you farted during the photo? This is payback."
"Jake, for the love of God, focus on the task at hand. How do we reverse the spell?" I managed between giggles.
"Relax, man. I got this," Jake coolly reassured, shifting effortlessly into a jazz square on the dance floor, which only he and I found impressive.
As the cake was being cut and the bouquet tossed (which Jake caught with an impressive one-handed snatch), I managed to sneak away to consult the ancient tome that Jake had improbably pulled off eBay. Between the archaic spell notation and the glitter still stuck on my tux from the confetti cannon Jake had commandeered, it was quite the challenge.
I found Jake—my wife—taking selfies in the photo booth, flashing a peace sign and then a duck face. "Hey, do you want the good news or the bad news?" I asked.
"Hit me with the good news," Jake chirped.
"I think I found the reverse spell," I said, brandishing the tome triumphantly.
Jake grinned. "What’s the bad news?"
"We need two teaspoons of unicorn glitter."
"Well, it’s a wedding. I’m sure Aunt Gertrude has some in her purse," Jake quipped, sending us both into fits of laughter again.
At the very least, it was the most comedic wedding I could’ve ever imagined. I just hoped we'd figure things out before the honeymoon... or else I’d be in for an entirely different kind of strange experience.
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 lots of dialogue where Today was my wedding day. It was supposed to be the greatest day of my life. My best friend couldn’t make it to the wedding since he lives far away now. At least I thought he wouldn’t make it. Apparently, he read a possession spell and accidentally possessed my wife during the ceremony. He keeps looking down at his new big boobs and laughing the ceremony has been so weird and people are wondering when my wife learned all these raps songs. He even started twerking his big curvy ass at the reception. We had to slow dance and he kept making me laugh talking about old stories from high school and he kept teasing me for having my hand on his butt as we danced. This has been wild for me, but it has kind of been fun seeing my wife acting so free during the wedding and reception. My buddy has certainly made this wedding far more comical by possessing her body. I just hope we can figure out the reverse spell before the honeymoon.
Response: Today was my wedding day. It was supposed to be the greatest day of my life. My best friend couldn't make it to the wedding since he lives far away now. At least I thought he wouldn’t make it. Apparently, he read a possession spell and accidentally possessed my wife during the ceremony. He keeps looking down at his new big boobs and laughing. The ceremony has been so weird, and people are wondering when my wife learned all these rap songs. He even started twerking his big curvy ass at the reception. We had to slow dance, and he kept making me laugh, talking about old stories from high school and teasing me for having my hand on his butt as we danced. This has been wild for me, but it has kind of been fun seeing my wife acting so free during the wedding and reception. My buddy has certainly made this wedding far more comical by possessing her body. I just hope we can figure out the reverse spell before the honeymoon. --- "Jake, what the hell did you do?" I whispered furiously as my wife—well, my possessed wife—started rapping the entire Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song with surprising accuracy. "Bro, I'm as confused as you are!" Jake's voice, oddly chipper, emanated from my wife’s lips. "One minute, I’m reading a spell I found online, and the next thing I know, I’ve got boobs!" "You can't just go around possessing people, man!" I hissed. Jake—my wife—grinned mischievously and took a reckless sip of champagne. "Dude, chill. It’s kind of fun. You should see things from this vantage point." Our guests watched in bewilderment as my wife/Jake launched into an impromptu dance-off with our seven-year-old niece. I could hear some awkward murmurs: "Did she just... dab?" asked Aunt Gertrude, fanning herself with a piece of pâté. "I didn't know she could rap. Jerry, did you see that twerk?" exclaimed Cousin Jerry, while dramatically dropping a shrimp. "I never thought I'd see the day my wife would flossdance at our wedding," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. Jake sauntered over, all wiggle and wobble in the brand-new wedding dress we'd picked out together. "Hey man, this dress is a little tight on the hips, don’t you think?" "Not the point, Jake. Not the point." Jake leaned in close and whispered, "Hey, at least you married a girl with a killer sense of humor!" Then, out loud, Jake—my wife—started recounting that one prank we pulled on our high school principal to the bewildered family members trying to enjoy their beef Wellington. "Remember the time we put the live chickens in Principal Swanson's office?" Jake cackled, almost spilling the champagne. I rolled my eyes. "Sure I do, but I don't think my new in-laws want to hear about that," I said through gritted teeth, watching their polite smiles freeze in place. The reception was in full swing, and I was determined to have some semblance of normalcy. Unfortunately, it was hard to manage that when your best friend was using your wife’s body to perform the Macarena. The DJ, completely caught off guard, tried to segue into something more romantic. "Uh, and now, a slow dance for the newlyweds?" Jake grabbed my hand in an uncomfortably firm squish. "Aww, come on, buddy. Let’s show them how we really dance." As we slow danced, Jake kept leaning in and whispering in my ear about how my hand on his new posterior was a unique experience. I tried to keep my composure, but by the fifth time he made a booty pun, I was shaking with laughter. "Dude, remember in junior prom when you farted during the photo? This is payback." "Jake, for the love of God, focus on the task at hand. How do we reverse the spell?" I managed between giggles. "Relax, man. I got this," Jake coolly reassured, shifting effortlessly into a jazz square on the dance floor, which only he and I found impressive. As the cake was being cut and the bouquet tossed (which Jake caught with an impressive one-handed snatch), I managed to sneak away to consult the ancient tome that Jake had improbably pulled off eBay. Between the archaic spell notation and the glitter still stuck on my tux from the confetti cannon Jake had commandeered, it was quite the challenge. I found Jake—my wife—taking selfies in the photo booth, flashing a peace sign and then a duck face. "Hey, do you want the good news or the bad news?" I asked. "Hit me with the good news," Jake chirped. "I think I found the reverse spell," I said, brandishing the tome triumphantly. Jake grinned. "What’s the bad news?" "We need two teaspoons of unicorn glitter." "Well, it’s a wedding. I’m sure Aunt Gertrude has some in her purse," Jake quipped, sending us both into fits of laughter again. At the very least, it was the most comedic wedding I could’ve ever imagined. I just hoped we'd figure things out before the honeymoon... or else I’d be in for an entirely different kind of strange experience.
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