The Swap Wave: A Bizarre Love Triangle
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When I saw the selfie from my girlfriend, now very evidently my buddy Tyler thanks to the revealing text chain, disbelief washed over me. My business trip to Chicago had been extended due to unforeseen circumstances, and while I was missing Laura terribly, I never imagined something as bizarre as the swap wave would occur back home. This inexplicable phenomenon had caused every person in town to swap bodies, and from the look of it, Laura and Tyler had not been spared.
The selfie was something I could never unsee. Tyler, in Laura's body, posed provocatively with his trademark Atlanta Braves hat perched on her head, a mockingly triumphant smirk on his—no, her—face. The caption beneath it made my blood boil: "You lucky son of a bitch, you get to tap this ass whenever you want.”
I scrolled down the text chain, each image more infuriating than the last. Tyler, still in Laura's curvaceous body, fondled her breasts in one shot, then practically flaunted her naked torso in another. The smugness in his messages was unbearable.
The next few hours were a blur. I booked the earliest flight back, my mind a whirl of anger, confusion, and panic. The news reports were altogether reassuring and horrifying—no one knew much about the swap wave other than that it was widespread and, as of now, permanent. Attempts by doctors and scientists to reverse the phenomenon had so far failed.
Adrenaline fueled my steps as I finally made it home. The sight that greeted me would have been comical if it wasn’t so tragic. The living room resembled a bombed-out lingerie store—bras and panties were scattered everywhere. Tyler, in nothing but a bra and underwear, lounged on the couch, an empty wine bottle beside him, and a look of glazed satisfaction on Laura's—now his—face.
"Dude, you should have more respect for her stuff," I snapped, barely containing my anger.
Tyler sat up, raising an eyebrow. “Chill out, man. I was just making the best of a bizarre situation.”
“This isn’t some joke, Tyler,” I shouted. “Do you have any idea—”
“I get it, okay!” He stood up, or rather, Laura’s body did, fluttering about gracefully despite his clumsy manner. He walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. It was disconcerting, her touch but with none of her warmth. “I know it’s messed up. Believe me, it’s weird for me too. But Laura’s stuck in my body, probably going through god knows what. We gotta figure out a way to handle this, Greg.”
The milliseconds ticked by, the enormity of the situation throbbing in my skull. He was right. As much as I wanted to punch him, to do anything to knock some sense into this already insane reality, we needed a plan. Tyler’s irresponsible antics aside, the focus had to be on finding Laura and coping with this new, unsettling normal.
"What's our first step?" I asked, swallowing hard.
Tyler—or rather Laura's face with Tyler’s exasperated expression—gave me a resigned nod. "I’ve been in touch with Laura. She’s freaked out but trying to maintain your friend's stupid gym routine,” he snorted, which was distressingly familiar. “We’ll meet up with her and…swap notes, I guess. Figure something out, together.”
Picking through the mess of discarded lingerie, I found a sliver of determination amongst the chaos. No matter how weird this situation was, Laura and I would get through it. Even if it meant dealing with Tyler’s ridiculous antics in my girlfriend’s body.
For now, we needed to survive this swap wave. With any luck, the permanence was just another misreported aspect of this uncharted catastrophe. I could only hope our bond was strong enough to weather this storm—however bizarre or awkward that storm might be.
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: When I saw this selfie from my girlfriend. While I was away for work, a strange phenomenon called the swap wave. It was this thing that caused everyone in town to swap bodies. Apparently? My buddy swapped bodies with my girlfriend and his having the time of his life in her body. The caption he left for the selfie said “you lucky son of a bitch, you get to tap this ass whenever you want.” He was wearing his own Atlanta Braves hat in the selfie showing off my girlfriends curvy ass. He also sent one of him fondling her massive boobs. It was quite an interesting text chain. I'm on the first flight home and I arrive at home to find him in the living room in nothing but a bra and some underwear with bras strewn about the place and lingerie's everywhere. It was clear he did some exploring of his own in her body. The worst part is the news is saying it is permanent.
Response: When I saw the selfie from my girlfriend, now very evidently my buddy Tyler thanks to the revealing text chain, disbelief washed over me. My business trip to Chicago had been extended due to unforeseen circumstances, and while I was missing Laura terribly, I never imagined something as bizarre as the swap wave would occur back home. This inexplicable phenomenon had caused every person in town to swap bodies, and from the look of it, Laura and Tyler had not been spared. The selfie was something I could never unsee. Tyler, in Laura's body, posed provocatively with his trademark Atlanta Braves hat perched on her head, a mockingly triumphant smirk on his—no, her—face. The caption beneath it made my blood boil: "You lucky son of a bitch, you get to tap this ass whenever you want.” I scrolled down the text chain, each image more infuriating than the last. Tyler, still in Laura's curvaceous body, fondled her breasts in one shot, then practically flaunted her naked torso in another. The smugness in his messages was unbearable. The next few hours were a blur. I booked the earliest flight back, my mind a whirl of anger, confusion, and panic. The news reports were altogether reassuring and horrifying—no one knew much about the swap wave other than that it was widespread and, as of now, permanent. Attempts by doctors and scientists to reverse the phenomenon had so far failed. Adrenaline fueled my steps as I finally made it home. The sight that greeted me would have been comical if it wasn’t so tragic. The living room resembled a bombed-out lingerie store—bras and panties were scattered everywhere. Tyler, in nothing but a bra and underwear, lounged on the couch, an empty wine bottle beside him, and a look of glazed satisfaction on Laura's—now his—face. "Dude, you should have more respect for her stuff," I snapped, barely containing my anger. Tyler sat up, raising an eyebrow. “Chill out, man. I was just making the best of a bizarre situation.” “This isn’t some joke, Tyler,” I shouted. “Do you have any idea—” “I get it, okay!” He stood up, or rather, Laura’s body did, fluttering about gracefully despite his clumsy manner. He walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. It was disconcerting, her touch but with none of her warmth. “I know it’s messed up. Believe me, it’s weird for me too. But Laura’s stuck in my body, probably going through god knows what. We gotta figure out a way to handle this, Greg.” The milliseconds ticked by, the enormity of the situation throbbing in my skull. He was right. As much as I wanted to punch him, to do anything to knock some sense into this already insane reality, we needed a plan. Tyler’s irresponsible antics aside, the focus had to be on finding Laura and coping with this new, unsettling normal. "What's our first step?" I asked, swallowing hard. Tyler—or rather Laura's face with Tyler’s exasperated expression—gave me a resigned nod. "I’ve been in touch with Laura. She’s freaked out but trying to maintain your friend's stupid gym routine,” he snorted, which was distressingly familiar. “We’ll meet up with her and…swap notes, I guess. Figure something out, together.” Picking through the mess of discarded lingerie, I found a sliver of determination amongst the chaos. No matter how weird this situation was, Laura and I would get through it. Even if it meant dealing with Tyler’s ridiculous antics in my girlfriend’s body. For now, we needed to survive this swap wave. With any luck, the permanence was just another misreported aspect of this uncharted catastrophe. I could only hope our bond was strong enough to weather this storm—however bizarre or awkward that storm might be.
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