GPT-4 Prompt: ‘Rewrite The Night Before Christmas except it’s about stoners and weed.’ Result: The greatest thing I’ve ever read in my entire life

‘Twas the night before 4/20, and all through the pad,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a cat.
The bongs were all placed by the windows with care,
In hopes that St. Ganja soon would be there.

The stoners were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of munchies danced in their heads.
With my hemp cap on, and my stoner babe near,
We had just settled down for a night without fear.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen weed,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects indeed.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature van, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Ganja, no trick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now, Blunt! Now, Bubbler! Now, Vape Pen and Zigzag!
On, Kush! On, Haze! On, Skunk and Big Bag!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
With the van full of weed, and St. Ganja too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Ganja came with a bound.

He was dressed all in hemp, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of weed he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his sack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a round little belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the bongs, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his van, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Happy 4/20 to all, and to all a good night!”


St Ganja

both images same link as above, found in comments

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