"The Gender Lake: A Splash of Confusion"
0 Points
0
When my buddy Jake and I decided to check out the so-called "Gender Lake," we had always thought it was a big-time hoax—like something out of those parody news websites that only grandparents share on social media. People said if you fell into the lake, you'd come out as a person of a different gender, usually the one you were most attracted to. We were pretty sure it was just an elaborate prank to trick gullible tourists into getting soaked.
"Hey, Adam, you first," Jake nudged, his grin as wide as the lake. "Ladies first, right?"
"That's not even funny, man," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "But if you're so eager, why don't you show me how it's done?"
"Fine, cowar—" Jake never finished his sentence because, without another word, he launched himself off the dock like an Olympic diver. The splash was like an eruption, water shooting up like he'd cannonballed into a pool filled with Mentos and Diet Coke.
I stood there, almost impressed by his total lack of grace, waiting to see if he’d pop up looking like Heidi Klum or something. A few seconds later, he emerged, dripping wet and—what the heck—looking exactly like my mom. I’m talking same haircut, same face, same confused expression that screamed, “Where did I leave my reading glasses?”
"Jake... Mom?!" My jaw practically hit the dock.
"Uh, Adam, it's me, Jake," said my mom—no, Jake—in my mom’s exact voice, complete with the subtle hint of disapproval she always used when I forgot to take the trash out. To make matters worse, he—she?—was in a skimpy bikini. I swear it looked like something straight out of a trashy beach movie. Ironically enough, I'd actually bought it for my mom as a joke on her last birthday!
"Jake, what the heck, man? Why do you look like my mom? And why are you wearing that?" I gestured wildly, feeling my face go red as a tomato.
"I don't know, dude. I just—I jumped in, and now I look like... Oh my god, these are huge!" Jake, in my mom’s body, poked at the bikini top defensively. "We're not even the same cup size!"
"That's not the point! You're my mom—I mean, my buddy is my mom! And now I’m talking to my half-naked mom, but it’s you, Jake, and this is giving me a headache." I rubbed my temples, trying to process the surreal, bizarre situation.
Jake—Mom?—looked at me with my mom's patented calming expression, the one she always used when I'd freak out over finals or my disastrous first high school dance.
"Adam," she—he?—said soothingly, "it's gonna be okay. Just breathe."
"Did you—did you just 'mom voice' me?" I couldn't believe the nerve! My best friend just went full-on nurturing, with the same compassion she used when the dog got scared during thunderstorms.
"Sorry, it just felt natural," he said, shrugging apologetically. Huh, some things never change, but why did my mom—Jake keep moving and shaking like a Jello mold in a tornado?
Great, now I was noticing all those things about my mom's body I never wanted to think about. Like, I had visual confirmation: those were definitely not Victoria's Secrets, they were out-in-the-open-too-much-secrets.
"Dude, put on a towel or something!" I shouted, throwing him the oversized beach towel I'd thankfully packed. Although the image of him catching it—like tossing a bedsheet over a grand piano—didn't do much to calm my nerves.
"Better?"
"Sort of. Just stay like that until we figure out how to reverse this." I paced back and forth, trying to figure out how one undoes magical gender lakes. There must be a manual or something.
As we brainstormed what to do next and whether we should leave a horrifying Yelp review for Gender Lake, one thought kept nagging at me: why, of all people, did Jake turn into my mom? Was that the part about "most attracted to"?
But Jake’s—she, ugh, whatever—voice pulled me out of my growing existential crisis. "Adam, buddy, we'll get through this. Look at the bright side: at least I'll finally understand why your mom always tells you to clean your room."
And somehow, with Jake’s weird, twisted humor coming out of my mom’s face, that made everything just a little bit better. Sort of.
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 When me and my friend decided to go to the gender lake we had always thought it was a hoax. People said if you feel into the lake you would come out as a person of a different gender. Usually when you fell in you’d come out as the person you were most attracted to. When my buddy dove in, he came out as an exact copy of my mom. I was pretty pissed at first. My buddy was able to calm me down, but why did he have to be in such a revealing and skimpy bikini, were moms boobs always that big. Gosh I shouldn’t be thinking that.
Response: When my buddy Jake and I decided to check out the so-called "Gender Lake," we had always thought it was a big-time hoax—like something out of those parody news websites that only grandparents share on social media. People said if you fell into the lake, you'd come out as a person of a different gender, usually the one you were most attracted to. We were pretty sure it was just an elaborate prank to trick gullible tourists into getting soaked. "Hey, Adam, you first," Jake nudged, his grin as wide as the lake. "Ladies first, right?" "That's not even funny, man," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "But if you're so eager, why don't you show me how it's done?" "Fine, cowar—" Jake never finished his sentence because, without another word, he launched himself off the dock like an Olympic diver. The splash was like an eruption, water shooting up like he'd cannonballed into a pool filled with Mentos and Diet Coke. I stood there, almost impressed by his total lack of grace, waiting to see if he’d pop up looking like Heidi Klum or something. A few seconds later, he emerged, dripping wet and—what the heck—looking exactly like my mom. I’m talking same haircut, same face, same confused expression that screamed, “Where did I leave my reading glasses?” "Jake... Mom?!" My jaw practically hit the dock. "Uh, Adam, it's me, Jake," said my mom—no, Jake—in my mom’s exact voice, complete with the subtle hint of disapproval she always used when I forgot to take the trash out. To make matters worse, he—she?—was in a skimpy bikini. I swear it looked like something straight out of a trashy beach movie. Ironically enough, I'd actually bought it for my mom as a joke on her last birthday! "Jake, what the heck, man? Why do you look like my mom? And why are you wearing that?" I gestured wildly, feeling my face go red as a tomato. "I don't know, dude. I just—I jumped in, and now I look like... Oh my god, these are huge!" Jake, in my mom’s body, poked at the bikini top defensively. "We're not even the same cup size!" "That's not the point! You're my mom—I mean, my buddy is my mom! And now I’m talking to my half-naked mom, but it’s you, Jake, and this is giving me a headache." I rubbed my temples, trying to process the surreal, bizarre situation. Jake—Mom?—looked at me with my mom's patented calming expression, the one she always used when I'd freak out over finals or my disastrous first high school dance. "Adam," she—he?—said soothingly, "it's gonna be okay. Just breathe." "Did you—did you just 'mom voice' me?" I couldn't believe the nerve! My best friend just went full-on nurturing, with the same compassion she used when the dog got scared during thunderstorms. "Sorry, it just felt natural," he said, shrugging apologetically. Huh, some things never change, but why did my mom—Jake keep moving and shaking like a Jello mold in a tornado? Great, now I was noticing all those things about my mom's body I never wanted to think about. Like, I had visual confirmation: those were definitely not Victoria's Secrets, they were out-in-the-open-too-much-secrets. "Dude, put on a towel or something!" I shouted, throwing him the oversized beach towel I'd thankfully packed. Although the image of him catching it—like tossing a bedsheet over a grand piano—didn't do much to calm my nerves. "Better?" "Sort of. Just stay like that until we figure out how to reverse this." I paced back and forth, trying to figure out how one undoes magical gender lakes. There must be a manual or something. As we brainstormed what to do next and whether we should leave a horrifying Yelp review for Gender Lake, one thought kept nagging at me: why, of all people, did Jake turn into my mom? Was that the part about "most attracted to"? But Jake’s—she, ugh, whatever—voice pulled me out of my growing existential crisis. "Adam, buddy, we'll get through this. Look at the bright side: at least I'll finally understand why your mom always tells you to clean your room." And somehow, with Jake’s weird, twisted humor coming out of my mom’s face, that made everything just a little bit better. Sort of.
Post your own comment: