The Possessed Wedding

Title: The Possessed Wedding

**"Dude, you sure you good over there? You keep rubbing your forehead like you're tryin' to erase your own eyebrows.”**

**"I'm fine,"** I mumbled, but my eyes stretched wide. **"You know, just a typical wedding day with my best friend taking over my bride's body. Nothing unusual."**

**"Oh, come on, man. You gon’ pretend you ain't havin' fun?"** my wife—no, my best friend Jake—stretched out his borrowed body, those luscious red curls bouncing as he swayed his hips. **"This gown is feelin' tighter than my old Nikes, bro!"**

**"Yeah, because you got a 'grade A rack', as you so colorfully put it."** I said with an eye-roll.

**"Man, check these out, they be magnificent!"** Jake cackled, giving his temporary cleavage a jolt. **"Reckon these be better than season tickets to the Lakers. I see why you married her, dawg."**

The priest cleared his throat at the spectacle, but with an auspicious allergy problem and a stutter he wasn't about to judge.

**"Jake, focus!"** I hissed through gritted teeth. **"We need to get through this wedding without too many people catching on that my incredible wife is temporarily you."**

**"Aight, aight,"** Jake pouted, his cherry lipstick smudged from the laughter earlier. **"But you gon' hit 'em with the truth after the honeymoon, right?"**

**"Yeah. Assuming we reverse this spell by then!"** I muttered as he approached the microphone for the reception speech.

My dad leaned over, whispering, **"Is… everything okay with her? She’s acting kind of... different."**

**"She’s just… really excited,"** I said, forcing a laugh.

**"Yo, check it,"** Jake said, adjusting the mic. **"Dis' speech gonna be short like Frodo."**

The guests exchanged bewildered glances.

Jake continued with a mischievous grin, **"Ma' boy here, he’s like Rocky, y’all. Always got that eye of the tiger, you know?"** He flashed a wink that made my Uncle Jerry spit his drink.

**"Bro, dis' is the dopest speech ever!"** Jake yelled, throwing up the peace sign. **“And now y’all, y’all ready to get freaky? Imma bless you with some Tupac. Hit ‘em up!”**

The DJ recovered from shock enough to drop a beat with Tupac’s "California Love," and Jake grabbed the mic like he'd been practicing his whole life.

**"From the graaaaave, dawg!"** I cringed, but Jake—in his hilariously mismatched bride’s persona—rapped every single word with such obscene excitement.

**“OH MY GOD!”** Aunt Trudy exclaimed. **“When did Emma learn all these rap songs?”**

**“There’s a lot you don’t know about her,”** I said weakly.

And before I knew it, Jake was twerking during the dance floor segment, his new curvy figure commanding the attention of the entire party. He even managed to get Grandma Edna to throw up a very awkward attempt at the Dougie.

**“Yo, this is tighter than our graduation party when we set off those fireworks!”**

**“Please stop talking about fireworks when you’re wearing a dress.”** I begged him as the laughter echoed across the reception.

Then came the slow dance. Jake kept deliberately snuggling in closer than necessary. He laughed, **“How you like this booty, bro? Grade A, huh? I do hope you never got used to any of this this whole time?”**

**“Dude, seriously, stop. We are way too close right now.”**

**“Aw, c’mon man. Just rememberin’ them high school days,”** he said, trying too hard to nuzzle against my cheek.

**“Have I told you today how much I hate you?”**

**“Yup, and you remind me during geometry class. Chill man, we gonna be homies still in the honeymoon suite.”**

**“What? You didn’t…”** I gaped as he went off to grab another drink.

Apparently, Jake had the foresight to leave the spellbook back in his apartment across the country, meaning I was going to new heights of crazy with my buddy in a paradise as my wife dined, wedding dress shining in the Hawaiian sun.

I have to say, Jake’s “Emma impersonation” provided me with laugh lines, attention from everyone, and the most unforgettable wedding experience humanly possible.

My best friend, for better or worse, is now temporarily my wife, and our crazy times from high school float right back. Honeymoon would never be the same, bruh. Guess that's the awesomeness of brothers for life, even if bruh’s rockin' the crimson curls and killer curves.

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.

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