"The Great Shift: A Curvy Changeup"
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Title: "The Great Shift: A Curvy Changeup"
"Strike-two!" The umpire bellowed as my brother Gerry, now in our mother's body, took a wide swing and missed. It was surreal, watching Gerry, a six-foot-three semi-pro baseball player now swinging a bat in our mother's curvy, five-foot-five frame. The Great Shift had surely thrown us a curveball.
I couldn't help but chuckle on the sidelines, recalling the day after The Shift when Gerry had woken up, rolled out of bed, and promptly tumbled over, unused to beleaguered by two substantial 'life buoys'. He groaned, looking down at his new assets. "How does Mom do anything with these?" he had lamented. Despite the strange circumstances, he soon became committed to whittling down and tightening up Mom's body for the upcoming co-ed season.
"'Curvy Gerry,' 'Busty Bronco,' 'Mounds McGee.'" I would tease, reading off the latest nickname from his teammates in our high-school group chat. Their intentions were good-natured, they'd grown up with Gerry and his peculiar condition allowed an endless supply of chuckles.
One practice afternoon, Gerry, proving he was more than just a pair of double trouble, launched pitch after pitch out of the park. At one point, the ball ricocheted off the pitching machine and flew, with unerring accuracy, directly at Gerry's⌠assets. THUD. I doubled over in laughter, holding my sides, as the poor guy clutched at his offended chest, groaning. Who knew baseball could be such a risk to the bust?
Gerry was a trooper, choosing to find triumph, and humor, out of a very odd curveball life had thrown him. He took every jeer, every thudding pitch, even the warping of his beloved "Bulldogs" jersey by mom's âmountainous mammariesâ (another nickname for the record), with a head held high and an infectious laugh.
"Batten down the hatches, busty Bronco's up next," I'd announce as he stepped up to the plate. "Hope you're wearing your sports bra today Gerry!" His friends would snicker, their chuckling barely masking their guilt as they knew they couldn't hold a candle to him on the field, regardless of his âenhancementsâ.
And so, through it all, the humor, the teasing - Gerry batted right back every pitch the universe threw at him. The mirror might now reflect a softer, curvier body, but beneath those swelling curves was still his same indomitable spirit. A spirit irrefutably caught between first base and second-base, a pair of distractions that dared him to keep his eye on the ball. Sitting on the bleachers, watching the new Gerry, Mom's curves and all, we didn't know whether to stand in awe or fall over laughing. But one thing was sure: Gerry was still our MVP, regardless of the curves life had thrown him.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAIâs 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 brother loved baseball. We both played together growing up. We was a far better player than me and he was probably going to get drafted to the pros after college. That was before the great shift which was an occurrence that swapped 50 percent of thew populations bodies came and swapped him into our motherâs curvy and busty body. Obviously he was pretty bummed out at first but my brother has always taken things in stride. He decided to workout momâs body and get her ready for Coed baseball season where he played with some of his friends from high school they liked to tease him and make nicknames about his new body but he was having fun and still was the best player in the team even with the two large hindrances on his chest. One time he even got it by a pitch on the boob which caused me and all his buddies to laugh. I didnât know mom was in such good shape. He did struggle to adjust to moms new breasts but over time he grow to get used to them but his usual BullDogs font across his jersey was warped by moms chestiness.
Response: Title: "The Great Shift: A Curvy Changeup" "Strike-two!" The umpire bellowed as my brother Gerry, now in our mother's body, took a wide swing and missed. It was surreal, watching Gerry, a six-foot-three semi-pro baseball player now swinging a bat in our mother's curvy, five-foot-five frame. The Great Shift had surely thrown us a curveball. I couldn't help but chuckle on the sidelines, recalling the day after The Shift when Gerry had woken up, rolled out of bed, and promptly tumbled over, unused to beleaguered by two substantial 'life buoys'. He groaned, looking down at his new assets. "How does Mom do anything with these?" he had lamented. Despite the strange circumstances, he soon became committed to whittling down and tightening up Mom's body for the upcoming co-ed season. "'Curvy Gerry,' 'Busty Bronco,' 'Mounds McGee.'" I would tease, reading off the latest nickname from his teammates in our high-school group chat. Their intentions were good-natured, they'd grown up with Gerry and his peculiar condition allowed an endless supply of chuckles. One practice afternoon, Gerry, proving he was more than just a pair of double trouble, launched pitch after pitch out of the park. At one point, the ball ricocheted off the pitching machine and flew, with unerring accuracy, directly at Gerry's⌠assets. THUD. I doubled over in laughter, holding my sides, as the poor guy clutched at his offended chest, groaning. Who knew baseball could be such a risk to the bust? Gerry was a trooper, choosing to find triumph, and humor, out of a very odd curveball life had thrown him. He took every jeer, every thudding pitch, even the warping of his beloved "Bulldogs" jersey by mom's âmountainous mammariesâ (another nickname for the record), with a head held high and an infectious laugh. "Batten down the hatches, busty Bronco's up next," I'd announce as he stepped up to the plate. "Hope you're wearing your sports bra today Gerry!" His friends would snicker, their chuckling barely masking their guilt as they knew they couldn't hold a candle to him on the field, regardless of his âenhancementsâ. And so, through it all, the humor, the teasing - Gerry batted right back every pitch the universe threw at him. The mirror might now reflect a softer, curvier body, but beneath those swelling curves was still his same indomitable spirit. A spirit irrefutably caught between first base and second-base, a pair of distractions that dared him to keep his eye on the ball. Sitting on the bleachers, watching the new Gerry, Mom's curves and all, we didn't know whether to stand in awe or fall over laughing. But one thing was sure: Gerry was still our MVP, regardless of the curves life had thrown him.
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