"Wishful Curves: Living the Trophy Wife Dream"
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"I have to hand it to you, buddy," my friend said, tossing his newly styled hair over his shoulder with a dramatically exaggerated flip. "You're a real genius with that 'wishing' business. Look at me now—living the dream as a trophy wife."
"Come on, it's not that bad," I said, trying to hide my amusement.
"Oh, of course," he shot back, inspecting his immaculately manicured nails with mock fascination. "I mean, who wouldn't want to know all the secrets of Victoria's Secret and have an opinion on the best shade of mascara to bring out their eyes?"
I snorted. "You look good, though."
"Oh, well thank you! Because that's the highlight of my day—knowing my ass looks impeccable in these designer jeans," he said, rolling his eyes. He then began to meticulously adjust his bra strap with the kind of expertise you'd expect from a seasoned lingerie connoisseur. "Yup, learning the art of strappy contraptions was definitely on my bucket list."
"Hey, it's not just about the... aesthetics. We've got the cash now."
"Cash, you say? Why, I didn't notice!" He gestured dramatically around the lavishly decorated room. "I was too busy being mesmerized by the sheen of 24-carat gold doorknobs."
"I get it. It's a big adjustment."
"No kidding. I mean, juggling my schedule around hair appointments and yoga classes is literally the hardest thing I've ever done," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He picked up a fashion magazine and started leafing through it. "Oooh, look. Pumpkin spice is back in season. My life is now complete."
"At least we'll never have to worry about money again," I pointed out.
He sighed, tossing the magazine aside. "True. But can we wish for me to be rich without being stuck in a body that's got more curves than a rollercoaster? Just once, I'd like to eat a burger without stressing over the calorie count."
I laughed. "I'll see what I can do."
"Oh, don't strain yourself too much," he said, stretching out on a plush chaise lounge and pouting like a professional model. "After all, what's life without a little... feminine mystery?"
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: I would have never thought this would’ve happened to us. A couple years ago me and my good friend were two down on our luck guys about to lose our house. We didn’t have much money. Then I found this weird coin. All I said was I wish we could be rich. The next morning my wish came true. Somehow the coin swapped us into the body of a Rich couple across town. My friend was now my sexy, busty, and curvy wife and I was a rich guy. I feel great about this, my friend loves having the money I’m not sure he’s totally sold on his new body yet though. I catch him playing with his new boobs or his new butt or his new hair and he loves to stare at his new long red nails the other weird thing is that he gained some of the memoires of the woman too so now he knows about bras and what pants make his ass look good how to style his hair he even knows all the juicy gossip. Write my friends dialogue in a sarcastic way
Response: "I have to hand it to you, buddy," my friend said, tossing his newly styled hair over his shoulder with a dramatically exaggerated flip. "You're a real genius with that 'wishing' business. Look at me now—living the dream as a trophy wife." "Come on, it's not that bad," I said, trying to hide my amusement. "Oh, of course," he shot back, inspecting his immaculately manicured nails with mock fascination. "I mean, who wouldn't want to know all the secrets of Victoria's Secret and have an opinion on the best shade of mascara to bring out their eyes?" I snorted. "You look good, though." "Oh, well thank you! Because that's the highlight of my day—knowing my ass looks impeccable in these designer jeans," he said, rolling his eyes. He then began to meticulously adjust his bra strap with the kind of expertise you'd expect from a seasoned lingerie connoisseur. "Yup, learning the art of strappy contraptions was definitely on my bucket list." "Hey, it's not just about the... aesthetics. We've got the cash now." "Cash, you say? Why, I didn't notice!" He gestured dramatically around the lavishly decorated room. "I was too busy being mesmerized by the sheen of 24-carat gold doorknobs." "I get it. It's a big adjustment." "No kidding. I mean, juggling my schedule around hair appointments and yoga classes is literally the hardest thing I've ever done," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He picked up a fashion magazine and started leafing through it. "Oooh, look. Pumpkin spice is back in season. My life is now complete." "At least we'll never have to worry about money again," I pointed out. He sighed, tossing the magazine aside. "True. But can we wish for me to be rich without being stuck in a body that's got more curves than a rollercoaster? Just once, I'd like to eat a burger without stressing over the calorie count." I laughed. "I'll see what I can do." "Oh, don't strain yourself too much," he said, stretching out on a plush chaise lounge and pouting like a professional model. "After all, what's life without a little... feminine mystery?"
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