"The Wedding Dress Spell: A Twerk to Remember"
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#### Possessing Happiness
At least, that's what I thought the spell was titled.
Things started going awry from the moment I mispronounced "Possideo Felicitatem." Instead of summoning a floaty bubble of general good vibes, my living room turned into a swirling vortex that yanked me out of my body and launched me across states.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in front of a mirror in a wedding gown that seemed to attract the attention of Newton and his laws of gravity. Seriously, I could barely move without these curves bouncing around. And what was with these underwear? They felt like a cheese slicer.
"Please, step forward!" The officiant's voice cut through my shock.
Right. The wedding. Steve's wedding. My best friend since way back when we used to prank call our math teacher, pretending to be pizza delivery guys.
“Hey, it's my turn!” someone hissed from behind me.
Well, here goes nothing.
---
"Do you, bride, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"Hell yeah, I do!" I chirped, unable to hide my smirk. Man, the look on Steve's face was priceless. His sidelong glance screamed, "Bro, what the heck?" His soon-to-be father-in-law nearly dropped a monocle he didn't even wear.
---
Reception time! I had already crushed half a bottle of champagne before Steve managed to grab me by the arm.
"Dude, why are you dressed like my wife? And why are you, you know," he motioned vaguely at my chest area, "her?"
"Long story short, I tried casting a spell. It backfired, and now I'm...your bride. How do these heels not snap under me?” I retorted while balancing on the high stilts strapped to my feet.
Steve’s eyes bugged out, his hand shooting out to keep me from toppling over. "That explains so much and yet, somehow, nothing."
I leaned in conspiratorially. "I once won a dance-off back in college. Time to see if this body can groove as well as mine did."
---
Cue the music. "Baby Got Back" blared over the speakers.
Breaking out some slick moves, I bent, dipped, and swayed, swirling the layers of the wedding dress like a pro. Heck, with the way this floor-length fabric swished around, I half-expected to lift off like a helicopter.
Steve had sidestepped into the conga line forming nearby when I decided it was time to pull out a classic. Dropping to the ground, I began twerking, my cheeks doing the tango.
“He knows how to twerk?” one old lady exclaimed, nearly spilling her drink.
---
The time came for the slow dance. I hooked one arm around Steve's neck, feeling him awkwardly still in his tuxedo.
“Remember that time in high school when you almost got us caught sneaking out?”
Steve’s cheeks turned a light shade of red, “How could I forget? You made sure every teacher found out the next day. I had detention for a week!”
“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about detention anymore. Now you’ve got a wife who can twerk,” I chuckled.
He instinctively placed his hands on my hips before realizing. “Uh, sorry,” he stammered.
I grinned. “I never thought I'd enjoy having my butt groped by my best friend so much.”
We laughed and danced, recalling every single embarrassing story from our past. From farting during a quiet test to the time we convinced everyone the school was haunted.
“So, got any idea how to reverse this?” Steve asked later while I stuffed my face at the buffet table.
“Uh, no. I kinda left the spell book back at my place.”
Steve sighed, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Guess I’m taking you—or, well, her—to Hawaii then.”
I clapped my gloved hands together, practically bouncing. “Sweet, vacation! Bikini shopping tomorrow? Seriously, how does she walk so effortlessly in these?”
---
Weddings are emotional, unforgettable events. And while I might’ve accidentally hijacked Steve’s wife for a day or two—or, how long till we get to Hawaii?—the essence of the celebration was still there. Happiness, camaraderie, and an impromptu lesson in wedding dress acrobatics.
By the end of the night, slipping off the heels felt like winning a marathon. Steve and I shared one last toast, me out of the stiletto and him, tipsy.
“To the most unexpected best friend bonding experience ever.”
We clinked glasses, and I knew deep down, we'd always have this crazy story to laugh about forever. Now to figure out how to surviving a honeymoon without embarrassing myself more than I already had.
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: Write a story with lots of dialogue where Today was my wedding day. It was supposed to be the greatest day of my life. My best friend couldn’t make it to the wedding since he lives far away now. At least I thought he wouldn’t make it. Apparently, he read a possession spell and accidentally possessed my wife during the ceremony. He walked up to the aisle in her flashy and showy dress her red hair cascading down her back with a strange smirk in her face. He keeps looking down at his new big boobs and laughing the ceremony has been so weird and people are wondering when my wife learned all these raps songs. He even started twerking his big curvy ass at the reception. We had to slow dance and he kept making me laugh talking about old stories from high school and he kept teasing me for having my hand on his butt as we danced. This has been wild for me, but it has kind of been fun seeing my wife acting so free during the wedding and reception. My buddy has certainly made this wedding far more comical by possessing her body. I just hope we can figure out the reverse spell before the honeymoon, but that's not going to happen turn out he left the book back at his house, so I guess he's going to Hawaii with me as my wife. The groom finds his friends antics funny throughout the wedding and reception. Write the story from my friends who possessed my wife's perspective.
Response: #### Possessing Happiness At least, that's what I thought the spell was titled. Things started going awry from the moment I mispronounced "Possideo Felicitatem." Instead of summoning a floaty bubble of general good vibes, my living room turned into a swirling vortex that yanked me out of my body and launched me across states. When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in front of a mirror in a wedding gown that seemed to attract the attention of Newton and his laws of gravity. Seriously, I could barely move without these curves bouncing around. And what was with these underwear? They felt like a cheese slicer. "Please, step forward!" The officiant's voice cut through my shock. Right. The wedding. Steve's wedding. My best friend since way back when we used to prank call our math teacher, pretending to be pizza delivery guys. “Hey, it's my turn!” someone hissed from behind me. Well, here goes nothing. --- "Do you, bride, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" "Hell yeah, I do!" I chirped, unable to hide my smirk. Man, the look on Steve's face was priceless. His sidelong glance screamed, "Bro, what the heck?" His soon-to-be father-in-law nearly dropped a monocle he didn't even wear. --- Reception time! I had already crushed half a bottle of champagne before Steve managed to grab me by the arm. "Dude, why are you dressed like my wife? And why are you, you know," he motioned vaguely at my chest area, "her?" "Long story short, I tried casting a spell. It backfired, and now I'm...your bride. How do these heels not snap under me?” I retorted while balancing on the high stilts strapped to my feet. Steve’s eyes bugged out, his hand shooting out to keep me from toppling over. "That explains so much and yet, somehow, nothing." I leaned in conspiratorially. "I once won a dance-off back in college. Time to see if this body can groove as well as mine did." --- Cue the music. "Baby Got Back" blared over the speakers. Breaking out some slick moves, I bent, dipped, and swayed, swirling the layers of the wedding dress like a pro. Heck, with the way this floor-length fabric swished around, I half-expected to lift off like a helicopter. Steve had sidestepped into the conga line forming nearby when I decided it was time to pull out a classic. Dropping to the ground, I began twerking, my cheeks doing the tango. “He knows how to twerk?” one old lady exclaimed, nearly spilling her drink. --- The time came for the slow dance. I hooked one arm around Steve's neck, feeling him awkwardly still in his tuxedo. “Remember that time in high school when you almost got us caught sneaking out?” Steve’s cheeks turned a light shade of red, “How could I forget? You made sure every teacher found out the next day. I had detention for a week!” “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about detention anymore. Now you’ve got a wife who can twerk,” I chuckled. He instinctively placed his hands on my hips before realizing. “Uh, sorry,” he stammered. I grinned. “I never thought I'd enjoy having my butt groped by my best friend so much.” We laughed and danced, recalling every single embarrassing story from our past. From farting during a quiet test to the time we convinced everyone the school was haunted. “So, got any idea how to reverse this?” Steve asked later while I stuffed my face at the buffet table. “Uh, no. I kinda left the spell book back at my place.” Steve sighed, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Guess I’m taking you—or, well, her—to Hawaii then.” I clapped my gloved hands together, practically bouncing. “Sweet, vacation! Bikini shopping tomorrow? Seriously, how does she walk so effortlessly in these?” --- Weddings are emotional, unforgettable events. And while I might’ve accidentally hijacked Steve’s wife for a day or two—or, how long till we get to Hawaii?—the essence of the celebration was still there. Happiness, camaraderie, and an impromptu lesson in wedding dress acrobatics. By the end of the night, slipping off the heels felt like winning a marathon. Steve and I shared one last toast, me out of the stiletto and him, tipsy. “To the most unexpected best friend bonding experience ever.” We clinked glasses, and I knew deep down, we'd always have this crazy story to laugh about forever. Now to figure out how to surviving a honeymoon without embarrassing myself more than I already had.
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