Title: "The Great Shift: A Tale of Curves and Cleats"
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I shuffled the papers on my desk, trying to focus on the mountain of work in front of me, but my eyes kept drifting to Charlie—well, Charlotte now—as he sat at his new secretary's desk, muttering under his breath. The transformation from gruff auto mechanic to bombshell secretary was surreal, even months after the Great Shift. His wavy blonde hair fell over one eye as he tapped furiously on the computer keys, the Hooters uniform he (she?) had come into feeling wholly out of place against the backdrop of our serious office.
"Aw, hell, this bra is killin' me," Charlie grumbled, adjusting the thin straps on his shoulders. "I swear, how did women wear these torture devices before the Shift? And don't even get me started on Dave, that guy's like a hawk with a particularly annoying hunger."
I couldn't help but chuckle. "You're really rocking that look though, you know? Haven't seen this much traffic at the reception desk ever. I think some people are inventing reasons to be there."
Charlie shot me a sly grin, a flash of his old self in a face barely recognizable. "Oh yeah? Does that include you? Ya been lookin' at me funny all day, pal."
I shrugged, pretending to be engrossed in a spreadsheet. "Hey, I'd be a fool not to appreciate the hottest 'chick' in the office. You know, you're still you, man. Just... different packaging."
"Tell that to my back," he groaned, stretching in such a way that his new curves did things to his borrowed top that I was sure violated some workplace dress code. "And my feet. These heels are murder. I don't know how dames did this every day."
"Maybe you should talk to HR about a different dress code?" I suggested, half-serious but not holding my breath. The office politics post-Shift were more complicated than ever. "But hey, how 'bout this weekend? We hit up a game? I know you're still the same sports junkie."
Charlie’s eyes lit up, the sparkle in his blue eyes unmistakable. "Ain't that the truth! Anything to get my mind off these... assets. Seriously, I'd kill for a beer and some good football. You still got that big screen at your place?"
"Of course. And, uh, Charlie..." I hesitated, "actually, I was thinking more of a... date? Dinner and the game? Just us?"
He looked at me, really looked at me, with those startling blue eyes. "You flirtin' with me?" He laughed, a sound sweet yet distinctly Charlie. "Why not, huh? Let's give it a shot. Ain't like I can turn back time. Besides," he added, winking with exaggerated flirtatiousness, "who can resist this package, right?"
I let out a relieved sigh. "Great. Then it's a date."
"Ya know," Charlie said thoughtfully as he resumed typing. "Maybe this secretary gig ain't so bad after all. At least this blonde gets to mess with Dave's head. It's like I'm getting my revenge daily."
"And you're the best-looking revenge ever," I quipped.
"Watch it, pal," he said with a wicked grin. "Just 'cause I look like a doll, don't mean I ain't still got the mind of a mechanic."
We both laughed then, the sound of sparkling friendliness mixed with the chaos of our new realities. Maybe, just maybe, life post-Shift wouldn't be so bad after all.
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 dialogue where After the great shift which was an event that swapped 75 percent of the countries bodies my buddy had lost his job. He was an auto mechanic and his boss didn’t think he could do it anymore since he was now in the body of a Hooters waitress from Brooklyn with a huge rack and a curvy blonde body he also kept her accent. I let him stay with me and I also got him a job as my secretary for the time being. There’s no doubt he’s now the hottest in the office. The best part is he is still his old goofy wisecracking self but just in a far sexier body He also still has knowledge about sports which is great to talk about at work with him. Today he was complaining about his bra pinching and the fact that Dave one of my coworkers wouldn't stop checking him out. I'm thinking about asking him out on a date tonight, I hope he says yes. Write my friends Dialogue with a Brooklyn accent
Response: I shuffled the papers on my desk, trying to focus on the mountain of work in front of me, but my eyes kept drifting to Charlie—well, Charlotte now—as he sat at his new secretary's desk, muttering under his breath. The transformation from gruff auto mechanic to bombshell secretary was surreal, even months after the Great Shift. His wavy blonde hair fell over one eye as he tapped furiously on the computer keys, the Hooters uniform he (she?) had come into feeling wholly out of place against the backdrop of our serious office. "Aw, hell, this bra is killin' me," Charlie grumbled, adjusting the thin straps on his shoulders. "I swear, how did women wear these torture devices before the Shift? And don't even get me started on Dave, that guy's like a hawk with a particularly annoying hunger." I couldn't help but chuckle. "You're really rocking that look though, you know? Haven't seen this much traffic at the reception desk ever. I think some people are inventing reasons to be there." Charlie shot me a sly grin, a flash of his old self in a face barely recognizable. "Oh yeah? Does that include you? Ya been lookin' at me funny all day, pal." I shrugged, pretending to be engrossed in a spreadsheet. "Hey, I'd be a fool not to appreciate the hottest 'chick' in the office. You know, you're still you, man. Just... different packaging." "Tell that to my back," he groaned, stretching in such a way that his new curves did things to his borrowed top that I was sure violated some workplace dress code. "And my feet. These heels are murder. I don't know how dames did this every day." "Maybe you should talk to HR about a different dress code?" I suggested, half-serious but not holding my breath. The office politics post-Shift were more complicated than ever. "But hey, how 'bout this weekend? We hit up a game? I know you're still the same sports junkie." Charlie’s eyes lit up, the sparkle in his blue eyes unmistakable. "Ain't that the truth! Anything to get my mind off these... assets. Seriously, I'd kill for a beer and some good football. You still got that big screen at your place?" "Of course. And, uh, Charlie..." I hesitated, "actually, I was thinking more of a... date? Dinner and the game? Just us?" He looked at me, really looked at me, with those startling blue eyes. "You flirtin' with me?" He laughed, a sound sweet yet distinctly Charlie. "Why not, huh? Let's give it a shot. Ain't like I can turn back time. Besides," he added, winking with exaggerated flirtatiousness, "who can resist this package, right?" I let out a relieved sigh. "Great. Then it's a date." "Ya know," Charlie said thoughtfully as he resumed typing. "Maybe this secretary gig ain't so bad after all. At least this blonde gets to mess with Dave's head. It's like I'm getting my revenge daily." "And you're the best-looking revenge ever," I quipped. "Watch it, pal," he said with a wicked grin. "Just 'cause I look like a doll, don't mean I ain't still got the mind of a mechanic." We both laughed then, the sound of sparkling friendliness mixed with the chaos of our new realities. Maybe, just maybe, life post-Shift wouldn't be so bad after all.
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