I've never written tickling stories. But I've been working with ChatGPT, an AI language model that I refer to as Assistant, to write a few.This is one of the results. It is based on the old movie and TV show, Topper. The plot is mine; the bulk of the language is Assistant's. I hope you like it.
THE CRITIC
Cosmo Topper sat at his desk, staring at the large stack of papers in front of him. As the chief investor in a new Broadway comedy set to open in just a few short days, he had a lot on his mind.
Just as he was beginning to consider all of the possible ways he could drum up some last-minute funding, there was a knock at his office door.
"Come in," Topper called, barely looking up from his work.
The door swung open, and in walked a tall, slender man with a sharp, angular face and piercing eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, and he carried with him an air of confidence and authority.
"Cosmo Topper, I presume?" the man said, his voice dripping with smugness.
Topper looked up, his eyes narrowing as he took in the stranger's appearance. "Yes, that's me. And who might you be?"
"My name is Addison De Witt," the man replied, "and I am a critic. A very influential critic, I might add."
Cosmo's heart sank as he realized what this man was here for. He had heard of Addison De Witt, and he knew that he could make or break a Broadway show.
"I see," Topper said, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"Well, Mr. Topper," Addison said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "I understand that your show is about to open, and I'm sure you're anxious for the show to be a success."
Topper nodded, his stomach churning with anxiety.
"Yes, I am," he said, trying to keep his tone even.
"Well, Mr. Topper," Addison said, leaning in closer. "I think it would be in your best interest to pay me one million dollars. If you do, I'll be sure to sit in the audience and obviously enjoy your show, laughing and smiling. But if you don't..." he trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air. "Well, let's just say that if I sit in the audience stonefaced, not cracking so much as a smile, the audience and the other critics will think I don't like it. And that, Mr. Topper, will ensure that your show flops."
Cosmo's told the critic that ne million dollars was an astronomical sum, and there was no way he could come up with that kind of money on such short notice. If the show were to flop, he would be ruined. Mr. De Witt remained unmoved.
The critic took his leave. But just as Topper was beginning to despair, a voice from behind him caught his attention.
"Don't worry, Toppy," a feminine voice said. "I'll help you out of this mess."
Topper turned to see Marion Kirby, a glamorous ghost who, along with her husband George, had been haunting him for years.
"Marion," he breathed, relief washing over him. "Do you have any ideas?"
[Assistant here switched from past to present tense. I didn’t bother to revise it.]
On opening night, the critic takes his seat in a prominent part of the orchestra, As the comedy starts and the actors begin to speak, Marion sneaks up behind the critic and ties his ankles to the chair he sits on. She then removes his shoes and socks. Before the critic knows what is happening, Marion tickles the critic's feet.
The critic can't help but burst into a fit of giggles. His laughter quickly builds and grows louder. The critic's face turns a deep shade of red as he struggles to contain his mirth, but it's no use. Soon his laughter explodes into a full-blown belly laugh. Tears stream down his cheeks as he howls with laughter, his body shaking with each guffaw.
The critic tries to catch his breath, gasping for air between fits of laughter, but it's no use. The tickling sensation on his feet is just too much, and he can't stop laughing. His face is now a bright shade of crimson, and the veins in his neck bulge with the effort of laughing so hard.
Despite his best efforts, the critic can't stop laughing. The harder he tries, the harder he laughs, and soon he's doubled over in his seat, tears streaming down his face as he howls with mirth. The sound of his laughter fills the theater, and the audience and the other critics can't help but smile at the sight of him having such a good time. The critic is laughing so hard now that he can barely catch his breath, and he can feel the muscles in his stomach and sides starting to ache from the strain. But he just can't stop laughing
The audience and the other critics see this and conclude that the critic must think the comedy is hilarious. The other critics rush out to write rave reviews, and the audience members vow to tell their friends about the critic's enthusiastic response. Thanks to Marion's cunning plan, the play becomes a hit, and Topper's fortune is saved.
THE CRITIC
Cosmo Topper sat at his desk, staring at the large stack of papers in front of him. As the chief investor in a new Broadway comedy set to open in just a few short days, he had a lot on his mind.
Just as he was beginning to consider all of the possible ways he could drum up some last-minute funding, there was a knock at his office door.
"Come in," Topper called, barely looking up from his work.
The door swung open, and in walked a tall, slender man with a sharp, angular face and piercing eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, and he carried with him an air of confidence and authority.
"Cosmo Topper, I presume?" the man said, his voice dripping with smugness.
Topper looked up, his eyes narrowing as he took in the stranger's appearance. "Yes, that's me. And who might you be?"
"My name is Addison De Witt," the man replied, "and I am a critic. A very influential critic, I might add."
Cosmo's heart sank as he realized what this man was here for. He had heard of Addison De Witt, and he knew that he could make or break a Broadway show.
"I see," Topper said, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"Well, Mr. Topper," Addison said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "I understand that your show is about to open, and I'm sure you're anxious for the show to be a success."
Topper nodded, his stomach churning with anxiety.
"Yes, I am," he said, trying to keep his tone even.
"Well, Mr. Topper," Addison said, leaning in closer. "I think it would be in your best interest to pay me one million dollars. If you do, I'll be sure to sit in the audience and obviously enjoy your show, laughing and smiling. But if you don't..." he trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air. "Well, let's just say that if I sit in the audience stonefaced, not cracking so much as a smile, the audience and the other critics will think I don't like it. And that, Mr. Topper, will ensure that your show flops."
Cosmo's told the critic that ne million dollars was an astronomical sum, and there was no way he could come up with that kind of money on such short notice. If the show were to flop, he would be ruined. Mr. De Witt remained unmoved.
The critic took his leave. But just as Topper was beginning to despair, a voice from behind him caught his attention.
"Don't worry, Toppy," a feminine voice said. "I'll help you out of this mess."
Topper turned to see Marion Kirby, a glamorous ghost who, along with her husband George, had been haunting him for years.
"Marion," he breathed, relief washing over him. "Do you have any ideas?"
[Assistant here switched from past to present tense. I didn’t bother to revise it.]
On opening night, the critic takes his seat in a prominent part of the orchestra, As the comedy starts and the actors begin to speak, Marion sneaks up behind the critic and ties his ankles to the chair he sits on. She then removes his shoes and socks. Before the critic knows what is happening, Marion tickles the critic's feet.
The critic can't help but burst into a fit of giggles. His laughter quickly builds and grows louder. The critic's face turns a deep shade of red as he struggles to contain his mirth, but it's no use. Soon his laughter explodes into a full-blown belly laugh. Tears stream down his cheeks as he howls with laughter, his body shaking with each guffaw.
The critic tries to catch his breath, gasping for air between fits of laughter, but it's no use. The tickling sensation on his feet is just too much, and he can't stop laughing. His face is now a bright shade of crimson, and the veins in his neck bulge with the effort of laughing so hard.
Despite his best efforts, the critic can't stop laughing. The harder he tries, the harder he laughs, and soon he's doubled over in his seat, tears streaming down his face as he howls with mirth. The sound of his laughter fills the theater, and the audience and the other critics can't help but smile at the sight of him having such a good time. The critic is laughing so hard now that he can barely catch his breath, and he can feel the muscles in his stomach and sides starting to ache from the strain. But he just can't stop laughing
The audience and the other critics see this and conclude that the critic must think the comedy is hilarious. The other critics rush out to write rave reviews, and the audience members vow to tell their friends about the critic's enthusiastic response. Thanks to Marion's cunning plan, the play becomes a hit, and Topper's fortune is saved.
