"The Quarterback Turned Miss Latina 2021"
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On a sunny Tuesday morning in the middle-of-nowhere hospital in Warrenville, there was poor, half-spaced-out Rick, still trying to make sense of his new busty and curvaceous reality. His eyes were locked in disbelief onto the mirror reflecting a Latina he now knew as Ariel.
"Man, this is gonna take some getting used to," Rick said, tilting his new body this way and that. He cocked an eyebrow, his fingers grazing over his new silky strands of brown hair. "Do I need to, like, take care of this hair now?"
"Dude, we both need a crash course on hair conditioners," I admitted, barely hiding my amusement.
Brushing off my crack at humor, Rick sighed. He craned his neck to look at his petite stature, curved hips, and admittedly, considerable bosom. "These things...son of a gun! How do women even run?"
"Have you tried a sports bra yet?" I suggested, trying not to laugh at my best friend's plight.
"I tried, but...I just don't get it, man. They're so.. so... they're everywhere!" Rick sputtered in his newfound Latina accent.
The mirth was haha-hilarious. Rick was the same gruff, goofy friend I had known since elementary school, but he was now facing challenges he'd never imagined. He wasn't just trying to fit into his new body, he was attempting to do the most male-centric task he could think of: tossing a football.
"Alright, let's go," Rick said, determined grin in place. "I'm still the best quarterback this side of the Mississippi."
As we headed to the park, I couldn't help but tease him, "But now you're also Miss Latina 2021."
"Oh, very funny, man! But, just wait till I throw that long pass...woah!" Rick started running but almost immediately tripped over his own legs. No doubt his new hips had something to do with it.
Determined not to let his predicament get him down, Rick attempted a couple of sprints, stumbling with each stride forward.
"I used to run marathons, man. Now, I can't even jog. This is so weird," he exhaled, frustrated. "How the hell does Ariel manage to do it?"
"Maybe she didn't run, buddy," I offered. "Maybe she danced."
"Danced? I can't even walk!" Rick's mortified face was topped by a fit of expletives.
"You'll get the hang of it," I comforted him, slapping his back. "Or should I say...her back?"
"Dude, that's messed up," Rick said, but there was a small, appreciative smile on his lips. "You really know how to help a guy who just woke up in a woman's body."
I glanced at Rick, my best friend, who had survived odds we both never expected. He had turned a distressing accident into a strange, yet hilarious adventure. And, in his own, peculiar way, he was still the quarterback he used to be.
A new champ was in town and she was going to dance her way through life, one busted-up football and awkward treadmill run at a time: Rick - Mr. Ariel.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAIās large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALLĀ·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: Write a story with lots of dialogue where Me and my friend were best friends since elementary school. We had been friends up until college. Thatās when the accident happened. He had been in an awfully car accident that had rendered his body useless. When the doctors told me about a brain swap procedure I told them to do it. I didnāt think his donor body would be a woman. Fortunately he ended up on the body of someone the same age but Iām not sure how Iām going to explain to him why he suddenly is a woman. His eyes flutter open on his hospital bed. Heās in for a real shock. He was now in the body of the busty and curvy Latina known as Ariel. It was quite a shock to know my best buddy who used to be a lanky white guy was now in the body of a 5'5 busty and curvaceous Latina. He is still trying to get used to his new body he used to like going to the gym but finds it hard to run on the treadmill now with his rather large chest endowments, the swap of his new hips and bounce of his ass make it strange as well. He wanted to try and toss the football around at the park but found the same hindrances attached to his new busty body. He has also gotten pieces of her personality as well. He talks like a Latina at times. Give my friend a stereotypical Latina accent in the story.
Response: On a sunny Tuesday morning in the middle-of-nowhere hospital in Warrenville, there was poor, half-spaced-out Rick, still trying to make sense of his new busty and curvaceous reality. His eyes were locked in disbelief onto the mirror reflecting a Latina he now knew as Ariel. "Man, this is gonna take some getting used to," Rick said, tilting his new body this way and that. He cocked an eyebrow, his fingers grazing over his new silky strands of brown hair. "Do I need to, like, take care of this hair now?" "Dude, we both need a crash course on hair conditioners," I admitted, barely hiding my amusement. Brushing off my crack at humor, Rick sighed. He craned his neck to look at his petite stature, curved hips, and admittedly, considerable bosom. "These things...son of a gun! How do women even run?" "Have you tried a sports bra yet?" I suggested, trying not to laugh at my best friend's plight. "I tried, but...I just don't get it, man. They're so.. so... they're everywhere!" Rick sputtered in his newfound Latina accent. The mirth was haha-hilarious. Rick was the same gruff, goofy friend I had known since elementary school, but he was now facing challenges he'd never imagined. He wasn't just trying to fit into his new body, he was attempting to do the most male-centric task he could think of: tossing a football. "Alright, let's go," Rick said, determined grin in place. "I'm still the best quarterback this side of the Mississippi." As we headed to the park, I couldn't help but tease him, "But now you're also Miss Latina 2021." "Oh, very funny, man! But, just wait till I throw that long pass...woah!" Rick started running but almost immediately tripped over his own legs. No doubt his new hips had something to do with it. Determined not to let his predicament get him down, Rick attempted a couple of sprints, stumbling with each stride forward. "I used to run marathons, man. Now, I can't even jog. This is so weird," he exhaled, frustrated. "How the hell does Ariel manage to do it?" "Maybe she didn't run, buddy," I offered. "Maybe she danced." "Danced? I can't even walk!" Rick's mortified face was topped by a fit of expletives. "You'll get the hang of it," I comforted him, slapping his back. "Or should I say...her back?" "Dude, that's messed up," Rick said, but there was a small, appreciative smile on his lips. "You really know how to help a guy who just woke up in a woman's body." I glanced at Rick, my best friend, who had survived odds we both never expected. He had turned a distressing accident into a strange, yet hilarious adventure. And, in his own, peculiar way, he was still the quarterback he used to be. A new champ was in town and she was going to dance her way through life, one busted-up football and awkward treadmill run at a time: Rick - Mr. Ariel.
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