A-I is controversial. So, let’s play with it a bit here. It just serves as a bit of Christmas fun for us today. We’re not writing a book for an agent or editor.Let’s have A-I start the dysfunctional Christmas story and then switch to author writing. The first couple of hundred words spring forth from A-I.

Here’s a ~175-word blog-style piece blending a femme-fatale vibe with a Christmas theme:

The first snowfall of December had just begun when she walked into town—red coat, black gloves, and an expression that made the twinkling lights feel a little less innocent. No one knew her name, but everyone felt her presence, like a snowstorm rolling in on silent feet. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who understood the power of mystery, the kind of woman who could turn a Christmas carol into a warning if she sang it softly enough.

Rumor had it she arrived each winter, leaving behind a trail of melted hearts and unanswered questions. Some said she was running from something. Others claimed she was the thing people should run from. But on Christmas Eve, when the town gathered around the tree, she appeared beside the glow of the ornaments—smiling, knowing, dangerous in the most dazzling way.

She wished the crowd a “Merry Christmas” with a voice warm as cinnamon and sharp as ice. And just like that, she vanished into the falling snow, leaving behind only a whisper of perfume and a story the town would tell every winter.

AI: Here’s a revised ~175-word version that centers on a dysfunctional family while keeping the femme-fatale Christmas mood:

Every Christmas, the Caldwell family gathered under the guise of holiday cheer, though everyone knew their traditions were stitched together with thin tinsel and unresolved grudges. This year, the tension arrived early—right when she stepped through the door. Marlene. The aunt no one talked about but everyone whispered about, the family’s very own femme fatale wrapped in a velvet red coat and enough attitude to curdle eggnog.

She floated into the living room like smoke, offering air-kisses sharp enough to draw blood. Cousins stiffened. Siblings exchanged looks. Grandma clutched her rosary. Marlene had a way of exposing secrets the way Christmas lights expose dusty corners.

Dinner was a performance. Between the ham and the hard stares, she mentioned an “interesting letter” she’d found. Uncle Ray choked on his wine. Someone dropped a roll. The room grew hotter than the fireplace.

And just as the storm was about to break, Marlene stood, smiled that dangerous little smile, and wished everyone a “Merry Christmas.”

Then she slipped out into the snow, leaving behind stunned silence, a handful of shaken relatives, and a holiday memory the Caldwells would argue about for years.

AI: Sure — which part would you like me to change? Feel free to quote the sentence or describe it, and I’ll revise it however you’d like.

And just as the storm was about to break, Marlene stood, smiled that dangerous little smile, and wished everyone a “Merry Christmas.”

Then she slipped out into the snow, leaving behind stunned silence, a handful of shaken relatives, and a holiday memory the Caldwells would argue about for years.

AI: Here are a few alternate options. Tell me which tone you like, or I can tweak further.

Option 1 — More dramatic

Just as the storm was about to break, Marlene rose from her chair, tapped her glass, and delivered a silk-smooth “Merry Christmas” that sounded more like a verdict than a greeting.

By the time anyone could respond, she was already at the door, her red coat vanishing into the snow as the Caldwells sat frozen, each wondering which of them she’d just silently condemned.

Option 2 — More humorous

Right when it seemed someone might actually lob a gravy boat, Marlene stood, flashed that sly smile, and purred, “Merry Christmas, darlings.”

In the next blink she was gone—out the door and into the snow—while the Caldwells sat there, blinking at each other, unsure whether to chase her, toast her, or blame her for everything (as usual).

Option 3 — More mysterious

On the edge of an argument brewing like a blizzard, Marlene pushed back her chair and whispered a soft, unsettling “Merry Christmas.”

Before anyone could ask what she meant, she disappeared into the snow, leaving the Caldwells with only drifting questions and the uneasy sense that she’d taken more than secrets with her.

Want it darker, funnier, sharper, or sweeter?

And Marlene, eyes narrowing, murmured, “Well. Looks like Christmas finally got interesting.”

A-I, A-I – Whoa!

Now my take:

The wicked sister, finally crossed the line from wicked flirt to adulteress. Profane language was hurled her way as she brazenly left the holiday celebration with her sister’s husband, Evan.

By Easter, both sisters were displaying small baby bumps, expecting children by the same man. Married sister tried to persuade her husband to reconcile for the sake of their baby as well as their 7-year marriage. He stubbornly remained with the husband thief. Stealing from her older sister was a life-long habit Delaney had never tried to break.

A neighbor, seriously worried about the escalating fight next door, called Carla. She couldn’t get Delaney or Evan to pick up their phone, so she drove over to their house. She stepped inside the open door. Delaney turned her shouts from Evan to Carla, then turned the gun she was holding up in the air and fired, apparently a warning shot for Carla.

Then came the next round of gunshots in the house, Carla couldn’t tell where they were coming from or where they were going. Apparently, both Delaney and Evan were firing live rounds. Carla ran toward her car in the driveway.

When the sound of gunfire died down, the police had arrived, they found a pregnant gunshot victim in the living room and a dead man sprawled on the stairs.

Delaney is allowed to raise her child in prison for six months. After the trial, Carla takes on raising both babies while Delaney finishes her three-year prison term. Both boys look remarkably like their father. Fortunately, his looks are the least objectionable part of him.

Have you experimented with AI? If so, what are your thoughts? Fun exercise? Ridiculous tripe?