"The Lamentable Transformation of Carl Wheezer: A Croissant's Curse"
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Verily, in ye days of yore, there did dwell a man by the noble and cherish'd name of Carl Wheezer, whose journey and destiny were foreordained by the stars themselves. And it cameth to pass on a dreary moonlit night, that Carl didst encounter a croissant most delectable, whereupon he did begin his most absurd transformation.
As the crescent of golden flaky bread did meeteth his eager lips, Carl didst feel within a queer (very homosexueal indeed, not really) and fantastiqal change. His mortal frame, once soft and rounded, to furstrait itself as an ungainly beast did beginneth. Of this metamorphoses, most queer and ungodly, Carl could not deter himself and thus he surrendered to ye forces beyond mortal ken.
Whilst this bodily havoc did descendeth upon him, there appeared nearby young masters Skipper and Skinner, who didst gaze upon Carl with mirth and puzzlement. "Behold," quoth Carl, "ye foolish lads! For I am ascending unto my lycanthrope being whil’st thou remains mundanely human!" And, yea, he belabored their unworth . Yet, this spectacle of change, in truth, did seemeth unlike that of the noble werewolves of legend and more akin to dog excrement transfigured by the hands of amateurish artists yoking their follies upon a coloring book’s page.
Jimmy, witnessing this eldritch mockery, did laugheth with such fervent mirth that the very heavens quivered. His laughter echo’d through realms unseen, till his father Hugh, of belchful fame, was stirred from slumberous quietude. "I shalt belch!" Hugh proclaimed, and indeed he didst, with such magnitude that the earth itself was upheaved and unto the void it vanished, as though it had never been.
Left upon this voidful ether, Carl Wheezer, now truly a beast of strange and unholy design, did perpetuate in an endless quest. "Giveth unto me, thine cwossaints!" He did howl into the abyss. And by memes he was haunted eternally, for no respite from this most comedic horror could be found.
Thus, was the fate of Carl Wheezer sealed forevermore, a lost soul within the tale of croissants and apocalyptic laughter, where comic mischief was ever his nature, and a frightful warning 'gainst the reckless mockery of friends and baked goods alike.
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.
AI Prompts
Prompt: Write a story about Carl Wheezer slowly and surely and lovingly transforming into a werewolf over a damn crossaint while he mocks Skinner or Skipper or "it's salt dude" dude for hours on end. Wheezer's complete form looks nothing like a werewolf and instead look's like dogshit fanart with a coloring book page slapped on top of it. Jimmy laughs so hard that Hugh nuclear burps the earth out of existence and the end. Carl Wheezer remains a werewolf forever and begs for cwossaints all day while begging for memes. Write this in bad 12th grade KJV style prose with nonsensical sentence structure.
Response: Verily, in ye days of yore, there did dwell a man by the noble and cherish'd name of Carl Wheezer, whose journey and destiny were foreordained by the stars themselves. And it cameth to pass on a dreary moonlit night, that Carl didst encounter a croissant most delectable, whereupon he did begin his most absurd transformation. As the crescent of golden flaky bread did meeteth his eager lips, Carl didst feel within a queer and fantastiqal change. His mortal frame, once soft and rounded, to furstrait itself as an ungainly beast did beginneth. Of this metamorphoses, most queer and ungodly, Carl could not deter himself and thus he surrendered to ye forces beyond mortal ken. Whilst this bodily havoc did descendeth upon him, there appeared nearby young masters Skipper and Skinner, who didst gaze upon Carl with mirth and puzzlement. "Behold," quoth Carl, "ye foolish lads! For I am ascending unto my lycanthrope being whil’st thou remains mundanely human!" And, yea, he belabored their unworth . Yet, this spectacle of change, in truth, did seemeth unlike that of the noble werewolves of legend and more akin to dog excrement transfigured by the hands of amateurish artists yoking their follies upon a coloring book’s page. Jimmy, witnessing this eldritch mockery, did laugheth with such fervent mirth that the very heavens quivered. His laughter echo’d through realms unseen, till his father Hugh, of belchful fame, was stirred from slumberous quietude. "I shalt belch!" Hugh proclaimed, and indeed he didst, with such magnitude that the earth itself was upheaved and unto the void it vanished, as though it had never been. Left upon this voidful ether, Carl Wheezer, now truly a beast of strange and unholy design, did perpetuate in an endless quest. "Giveth unto me, thine cwossaints!" He did howl into the abyss. And by memes he was haunted eternally, for no respite from this most comedic horror could be found. Thus, was the fate of Carl Wheezer sealed forevermore, a lost soul within the tale of croissants and apocalyptic laughter, where comic mischief was ever his nature, and a frightful warning 'gainst the reckless mockery of friends and baked goods alike.
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