ai clone high stories

I er uh encore

The school hall buzzed with nervous anticipation. JFK, microphone clutched in his sweaty hand, shifted uncomfortably. His signature stammer, a nervous tic that usually only plagued his speeches, was amplified by the crackling microphone.

'I er uh, so,' he began, trying to regain his composure. 'I was thinking about, er uh, Klungo. You know, from Banjo-Kazooie? Seriously, that guy is, er uh, so hot. Like, I mean, he's got this whole, er uh, bad boy, but also cuddly look. And those feathers, I er uh, just can't…'

He trailed off, lost in a dreamy haze. The hall, however, remained silent. JFK's usual antics, often met with boisterous laughter, had fallen flat this time.

Cleopatra, seated in the front row, looked away, her face a picture of distress. JFK's sudden obsession with Klungo had been growing, and she'd been putting up with it, albeit reluctantly, for weeks. But this, this was too much.

'JFK, I… I can't stay with you anymore,' she announced, her voice trembling. 'You're…'

She faltered, unable to articulate her feelings. JFK, oblivious to the pain he was causing, continued his monologue.

'I er uh, think I'd get freaky with him. Like, really freaky. You know, I er uh, make him feel… real good,' he blurted out, blushing fiercely.

Cleopatra stood up, unable to bear another moment. She turned to flee, but as she reached the door, a wave of sound crashed over her. JFK, in a sudden display of confidence, had started to sing.

'Can I er uh g-g-get an encore, do you er want more? C-cookin' raw with the I er uhh Brooklyn boy, so for one last t-t-time, I I i er uh need y'all to I er uh roar, roar, roar, roar (I er uh yeah)!'

The music swelled, and the hall transformed into a surreal stage. Seals danced on oversized balls, elephants stomped rhythmically on his head, and a spotlight shone directly on JFK. He was in his element, his stammer forgotten, replaced by a newfound charisma.

Cleopatra stopped in her tracks, mesmerized. Her anger dissolved, replaced by a strange sense of…amusement?

Then, she saw it. A figure emerged from the sidelines, draped in a feathered cloak, a familiar Klungo mask covering their face. It was Cleo herself, and she walked towards JFK with a determined stride.

As JFK finished his song, Cleo, dressed as Klungo, reached him, and, with a mischievous glint in her eye, kissed him full on the lips. The hall erupted. JFK, initially shocked, quickly responded, pulling Cleo closer. His eyes were wide with surprise, but his face was alight with a smile that mirrored the warmth of a thousand suns.