Question
MAKE IT FUNNY STORY.
Imagine this.. you used to be the tallest.. of course, you're the oldest nineteen nearly twenty! the second oldest being fifteen, the middle being fourteen, the second youngest being eleven and the youngest being three... of course you're the tallest if youre the oldest! (JOHN DORY POV)
But sometimes life wants to give it a little twist...
what if after twenty years being apart.. change John Dorys little brothers?
what if returning with them (After the disaster with Velvet and Venner)--John Dory realizes... they surpassed him in height.
Well.. now he really regrets teasing them about being short when they were kids..
some info:
John dory:Late-30's. blue skin. He has forest green hair with black eyebrows, his eyes are a dark cyan, and a purple indigo nose.brown jacket with white fluffy part around his neck with brown dots. Charming, Kind, energetic for his age, weak-strong, funny, and just a humble old troll. And his tail really shows how he's feeling(it helps him express how he feels and you can tell how he feels by looking at it.) Dyslexic, ADHD, kinda schizophrenic from living in a dangerous trail for over 20 years and sometimes sees things that aren't there. and he's also pretty watchful and actually is missing an arm but his brothers dont know because he made a fake one and coverd it. will be revealed during the story. also the shortest out of his brothers, even though he's the oldest. 5'2 inches tall because.. well he's a troll. He has a pet armadillo-bus-van named Rhonda. (she cant talk, she can only:Purr, growl, bark?, snarl... just noises..)
Bruce:mid-30's. Blue skin, chubby, has a wife(Brandy)and lots of kids(12 sons, 1 daughter) also his wife and kids are literally giants.. his wife is a yellow and orange Vacaytioner with red braided hair tied into a bun with a pink hair tie, orange eye-shadows, and pink hoop earrings. She also wears a dark pink apron and sandals. dark purple nose, second oldest, Long-puffy-and lots of purple hair. vacy type stype. kind, fatherly instincts will be shown to his brothers and even John dory(who gets a little flustered because he's the oldest) kinda strict but laid-back. understanding. forgiving. most charming, and used to get all the trolldussy back then, pretty tall, 5'8 inches.(bc... they are trolls..)
Clay:Mid-30's, also blue skin, Dark lime green nose very skinny and has crazy long green-lime hair, serious, funny, mean to John dory(not for long) and isn't very forgiving.. loves books, green fit, tallest out of his siblings(6'2 inches.. bc they are trolls) and loves to tease everyone, especially John dory because he used to tease him when they were younger. third oldest.
Floyd:Early-30's, blue skin, pink-magenta hair with one white stripe(after velvet and venner),Dark pink-magenta nose. and his hair kinda covers his eyes, and is the most kindest, sensitive, worriedful. white earling on his right ear, no shirt, belt with dark brown shorts, fourth oldest. maybe branchs favorite brother, forgiving, second shortest brother (5'3 inches--they are trolls...)
Branch:mid-20's, grey-blueish skin, dark blue hair, Dark blue nose. youngest brother, grumpy, kinda mean, kind, smart, helpful, not that forgiving, third tallest(5'7 inches-they are trolls), girlfriend:Poppy, queen of trolls, very energetic, pinky troll. outfit:the leaf vest Floyd gave him the day they left, brown shorts. paranoid, Autistic, overprotective.
And yes, ALL trolls have tails.
write some about:John trying to hide being sick/injured
Ages when the band broke up:
John Dory:19
Spruce(Bruce):15
Clay:14
Floyd:11
Branch:3
And add lots of details and make them worry about his arm.
Imagine this.. you used to be the tallest.. of course, you're the oldest nineteen nearly twenty! the second oldest being fifteen, the middle being fourteen, the second youngest being eleven and the youngest being three... of course you're the tallest if youre the oldest! (JOHN DORY POV)
But sometimes life wants to give it a little twist...
what if after twenty years being apart.. change John Dorys little brothers?
what if returning with them (After the disaster with Velvet and Venner)--John Dory realizes... they surpassed him in height.
Well.. now he really regrets teasing them about being short when they were kids..
some info:
John dory:Late-30's. blue skin. He has forest green hair with black eyebrows, his eyes are a dark cyan, and a purple indigo nose.brown jacket with white fluffy part around his neck with brown dots. Charming, Kind, energetic for his age, weak-strong, funny, and just a humble old troll. And his tail really shows how he's feeling(it helps him express how he feels and you can tell how he feels by looking at it.) Dyslexic, ADHD, kinda schizophrenic from living in a dangerous trail for over 20 years and sometimes sees things that aren't there. and he's also pretty watchful and actually is missing an arm but his brothers dont know because he made a fake one and coverd it. will be revealed during the story. also the shortest out of his brothers, even though he's the oldest. 5'2 inches tall because.. well he's a troll. He has a pet armadillo-bus-van named Rhonda. (she cant talk, she can only:Purr, growl, bark?, snarl... just noises..)
Bruce:mid-30's. Blue skin, chubby, has a wife(Brandy)and lots of kids(12 sons, 1 daughter) also his wife and kids are literally giants.. his wife is a yellow and orange Vacaytioner with red braided hair tied into a bun with a pink hair tie, orange eye-shadows, and pink hoop earrings. She also wears a dark pink apron and sandals. dark purple nose, second oldest, Long-puffy-and lots of purple hair. vacy type stype. kind, fatherly instincts will be shown to his brothers and even John dory(who gets a little flustered because he's the oldest) kinda strict but laid-back. understanding. forgiving. most charming, and used to get all the trolldussy back then, pretty tall, 5'8 inches.(bc... they are trolls..)
Clay:Mid-30's, also blue skin, Dark lime green nose very skinny and has crazy long green-lime hair, serious, funny, mean to John dory(not for long) and isn't very forgiving.. loves books, green fit, tallest out of his siblings(6'2 inches.. bc they are trolls) and loves to tease everyone, especially John dory because he used to tease him when they were younger. third oldest.
Floyd:Early-30's, blue skin, pink-magenta hair with one white stripe(after velvet and venner),Dark pink-magenta nose. and his hair kinda covers his eyes, and is the most kindest, sensitive, worriedful. white earling on his right ear, no shirt, belt with dark brown shorts, fourth oldest. maybe branchs favorite brother, forgiving, second shortest brother (5'3 inches--they are trolls...)
Branch:mid-20's, grey-blueish skin, dark blue hair, Dark blue nose. youngest brother, grumpy, kinda mean, kind, smart, helpful, not that forgiving, third tallest(5'7 inches-they are trolls), girlfriend:Poppy, queen of trolls, very energetic, pinky troll. outfit:the leaf vest Floyd gave him the day they left, brown shorts. paranoid, Autistic, overprotective.
And yes, ALL trolls have tails.
write some about:John trying to hide being sick/injured
Ages when the band broke up:
John Dory:19
Spruce(Bruce):15
Clay:14
Floyd:11
Branch:3
And add lots of details and make them worry about his arm.
Answers
GPT-4o mini
**Title: "The Height of Regret"**
Once upon a time in a world where trolls roamed free—and were significantly shorter than their towering human counterparts—a little blue troll named John Dory decided to return home after twenty years of wandering. When he left, he was the undisputed tallest brother, a full 5'2" of brassy blue, forest green hair, and a hint of cocky confidence. But age, time, and a few awkward encounters with magical mishaps can do wonders for one's perspective, and John was about to learn a lesson in gravity—both literally and figuratively.
It all started when he reunited with his brothers: Bruce, Clay, Floyd, and little Branch. They met at the family homestead, with old memories eagerly waiting to ambush John like surprise birthday parties all over again.
"Bro, is that you?" Bruce bellowed. He had become the definition of a troll dad—chubby, jovial, and balancing a small army of offspring on his already strained shoulders. Next to him was his wife Brandy, a giantess with a personality to match her size, who dwarf-ified the entire scene with her radiant aura and multicolored apron.
Before John could answer, Clay, holding onto that family habit of teasing a little too tightly, shouted, "Wow, John! I didn’t know it was 'Bring Your Own Shorty' day!"
His laughter rang out as if he had just delivered the punchline of a troll sitcom, while John’s heart sank lower than his height might suggest.
"And John, you’re looking... shorter!" Floyd put in, brushing non-existent dust off his invisible shirt, stylized lack of attire fully on display. “Have you forgotten to eat while you were gone?”
“Or maybe he thought he was still growing," Branch chimed in, feigning a thoughtful expression. “You could stretch yourself with some fancy troll yoga!”
As the laughter rose like a chorus of off-key harmonies, John just had to wonder whether he had walked into a family reunion or a roast battle. He managed a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his head anxiously. “Ha-ha, very funny. I guess you guys—”
Then it hit him like a spell gone wrong. He abruptly turned pale, which is difficult when you're blue. Perhaps it was the dyslexia flaring up again or perhaps he was simply struck by how much everyone had shot upward in height. Standing at 5'2”, John felt like he was surrounded by a cabal of towering giants, each getting taller and larger as if they all had hit a magical troll growth spurt overnight.
Bruce stood at an imposing 5'8", Clay laughed at him from a sinister yet comical 6'2", while Floyd, despite being almost the same height as John, wore it like a crown. Meanwhile, Branch, the youngest, clocked in at a formidable 5'7". In every way possible, John felt like the proverbial “right-height troll” in a world of giants.
After moments of banter that soon settled, John got serious. He took a deep breath—well, sort of. As he inhaled deeply, a niggling pain shot through his side. John had been hiding a few things—the rough life on the dangerous trails had left him with some unsightly bruises and aches. But he couldn't let them see that. Not now, not with their current troll superiority and his dwindling stature and confidence.
“Hey, what’s with the face? Are you sick?” Bruce furrowed his brow, concern etched in his features.
“Me? Sick? Pshh! No way, I feel fantastic! Just... got a little winded on the journey here!” John replied nervously, attempting to feign nonchalance while shifting awkwardly to disguise the subtle pain now creeping up his torso.
But being the ever-observant brothers, especially Bruce, they weren't buying it for a second.
“Uh-huh,” Clay raised an eyebrow, already preparing a voice full of sarcasm. “A troll that’s winded? That sounds like a legendary tale. Next, you’ll tell us you met a giant who offered you a salad!”
John flashed a grin, but it fell quickly as he felt a wince through his fake arm. “Heh, well, let's say the only green I’ve been consuming include the occasional moss sandwich. I’ve been camping with my... *equipment*, you know?”
“Uh-huh,” Floyd leaned in, eyeing John with worry. “Are you saying you were cooking? When was the last time you used actual utensils? I don’t see your right arm; did you chop it off with your famous moss sandwich?”
Did they suspect? Would they find out about his fake arm? The fabric of his brown jacket covered it well, but there was a thin line between a bold cover-up and a naive gamble. But the truth was, if his brothers knew, they would worry even more. And worry was the last thing John wanted to put on their overprotective plates.
“Of course not!” John exclaimed with a sudden laugh and a tail flick, inadvertently giving away his sheepishness. "It's all in the wrist, brothers!”
“Bull, John! Show us your other arm!” Clay laughed, towering over him like a troll Swiss army knife ready to dismantle the world’s worst improvisational play.
If only they knew the battle scars came from him wrestling with trolls of bigger stature, monsters of multiple heights, and maybe just a little too much mumbling back in his twenties.
“Maybe we should just set up a height chart for the big guy!” Branch chimed in with mock seriousness. Despite being grumpy, he was the most amusing in his own way. “We can measure who’s tallest and get John a booster seat!”
“Actually, I’d prefer an armchair,” John replied sheepishly, glancing around at his towering brothers, desperately trying to maintain a laugh while inside he was melting like an ice cream cone left out in the sun.
And as they laughed, poked fun, and shared memories—John felt that slight sting of nostalgia and envy slowly merge into a buffalo-sized portion of warmth. His brothers were back in his life; they had grown up, stretched taller than even their wildest dreams—but he still had Rhonda, his trusty armadillo-bus-van.
And if he wanted to, he could still outrun them... as long as he did it before they realized he wasn’t just “winded.”
The swirls of laughter echoed around them, shadows danced in the twilight, and John felt the ghost of figures past wrap around him. Life had shifted past his control, revealed new truths, and he couldn’t help but forgive himself for the deeds of the past.
For perhaps the best part of life is that, no matter how many inches you lose, it can never lessen the heights of love shared among brothers—except, perhaps, when they’re trying to stuff you back in a booster seat.
**The End**
Once upon a time in a world where trolls roamed free—and were significantly shorter than their towering human counterparts—a little blue troll named John Dory decided to return home after twenty years of wandering. When he left, he was the undisputed tallest brother, a full 5'2" of brassy blue, forest green hair, and a hint of cocky confidence. But age, time, and a few awkward encounters with magical mishaps can do wonders for one's perspective, and John was about to learn a lesson in gravity—both literally and figuratively.
It all started when he reunited with his brothers: Bruce, Clay, Floyd, and little Branch. They met at the family homestead, with old memories eagerly waiting to ambush John like surprise birthday parties all over again.
"Bro, is that you?" Bruce bellowed. He had become the definition of a troll dad—chubby, jovial, and balancing a small army of offspring on his already strained shoulders. Next to him was his wife Brandy, a giantess with a personality to match her size, who dwarf-ified the entire scene with her radiant aura and multicolored apron.
Before John could answer, Clay, holding onto that family habit of teasing a little too tightly, shouted, "Wow, John! I didn’t know it was 'Bring Your Own Shorty' day!"
His laughter rang out as if he had just delivered the punchline of a troll sitcom, while John’s heart sank lower than his height might suggest.
"And John, you’re looking... shorter!" Floyd put in, brushing non-existent dust off his invisible shirt, stylized lack of attire fully on display. “Have you forgotten to eat while you were gone?”
“Or maybe he thought he was still growing," Branch chimed in, feigning a thoughtful expression. “You could stretch yourself with some fancy troll yoga!”
As the laughter rose like a chorus of off-key harmonies, John just had to wonder whether he had walked into a family reunion or a roast battle. He managed a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his head anxiously. “Ha-ha, very funny. I guess you guys—”
Then it hit him like a spell gone wrong. He abruptly turned pale, which is difficult when you're blue. Perhaps it was the dyslexia flaring up again or perhaps he was simply struck by how much everyone had shot upward in height. Standing at 5'2”, John felt like he was surrounded by a cabal of towering giants, each getting taller and larger as if they all had hit a magical troll growth spurt overnight.
Bruce stood at an imposing 5'8", Clay laughed at him from a sinister yet comical 6'2", while Floyd, despite being almost the same height as John, wore it like a crown. Meanwhile, Branch, the youngest, clocked in at a formidable 5'7". In every way possible, John felt like the proverbial “right-height troll” in a world of giants.
After moments of banter that soon settled, John got serious. He took a deep breath—well, sort of. As he inhaled deeply, a niggling pain shot through his side. John had been hiding a few things—the rough life on the dangerous trails had left him with some unsightly bruises and aches. But he couldn't let them see that. Not now, not with their current troll superiority and his dwindling stature and confidence.
“Hey, what’s with the face? Are you sick?” Bruce furrowed his brow, concern etched in his features.
“Me? Sick? Pshh! No way, I feel fantastic! Just... got a little winded on the journey here!” John replied nervously, attempting to feign nonchalance while shifting awkwardly to disguise the subtle pain now creeping up his torso.
But being the ever-observant brothers, especially Bruce, they weren't buying it for a second.
“Uh-huh,” Clay raised an eyebrow, already preparing a voice full of sarcasm. “A troll that’s winded? That sounds like a legendary tale. Next, you’ll tell us you met a giant who offered you a salad!”
John flashed a grin, but it fell quickly as he felt a wince through his fake arm. “Heh, well, let's say the only green I’ve been consuming include the occasional moss sandwich. I’ve been camping with my... *equipment*, you know?”
“Uh-huh,” Floyd leaned in, eyeing John with worry. “Are you saying you were cooking? When was the last time you used actual utensils? I don’t see your right arm; did you chop it off with your famous moss sandwich?”
Did they suspect? Would they find out about his fake arm? The fabric of his brown jacket covered it well, but there was a thin line between a bold cover-up and a naive gamble. But the truth was, if his brothers knew, they would worry even more. And worry was the last thing John wanted to put on their overprotective plates.
“Of course not!” John exclaimed with a sudden laugh and a tail flick, inadvertently giving away his sheepishness. "It's all in the wrist, brothers!”
“Bull, John! Show us your other arm!” Clay laughed, towering over him like a troll Swiss army knife ready to dismantle the world’s worst improvisational play.
If only they knew the battle scars came from him wrestling with trolls of bigger stature, monsters of multiple heights, and maybe just a little too much mumbling back in his twenties.
“Maybe we should just set up a height chart for the big guy!” Branch chimed in with mock seriousness. Despite being grumpy, he was the most amusing in his own way. “We can measure who’s tallest and get John a booster seat!”
“Actually, I’d prefer an armchair,” John replied sheepishly, glancing around at his towering brothers, desperately trying to maintain a laugh while inside he was melting like an ice cream cone left out in the sun.
And as they laughed, poked fun, and shared memories—John felt that slight sting of nostalgia and envy slowly merge into a buffalo-sized portion of warmth. His brothers were back in his life; they had grown up, stretched taller than even their wildest dreams—but he still had Rhonda, his trusty armadillo-bus-van.
And if he wanted to, he could still outrun them... as long as he did it before they realized he wasn’t just “winded.”
The swirls of laughter echoed around them, shadows danced in the twilight, and John felt the ghost of figures past wrap around him. Life had shifted past his control, revealed new truths, and he couldn’t help but forgive himself for the deeds of the past.
For perhaps the best part of life is that, no matter how many inches you lose, it can never lessen the heights of love shared among brothers—except, perhaps, when they’re trying to stuff you back in a booster seat.
**The End**