So, using OpenAI’s neural network to auto-complete stories is wonderfully entertaining. Unfortunately, we plebs only get one snippet from the machine at a time, instead of a fully coherent story like the unchained version sitting somewhere on OpenAI’s servers; the product is disjointed in contrast. Yet, I love it so.
I call this bizarre tale “The Prince of Samori”…
The Prompt: Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimbal in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogroves, and the momeraths outgrabe.
The machine continues the story with:
There were masonmyrs, and slaymouths to mete and gatte. There were mancocks a-leaping, with bestridgings and hideous amizes, and darkgills met up the ochntree to minglede. There were nuggers a-tossen in the clog, a-moved in the rump and rime with gnats, and nouciall jellydoves, birds-chic, drummers, and dunces; nunnouns, immortels, witch-impressions, and roolings.
‘Gentlemen,’ said the orciall cock, ‘if you be the cunning fellows that you profess to be, you might get rid of us.’
‘We are not stupid,’ said the Cockatrice. ‘Well, stay where you are,’ cried Plaxy, ‘I have got on to one of the lifeboats, and will reach you as fast as I can.’
‘It’s all right,’ said the Cockatrice; ‘when the saloon comes in I shall overtake you.’
At this instant the Rowdies were in the water, with their boat two ranks long below them and their own nearly all over the empty sand-work, and they could not get clear of the sand-work at all without swimming; yet, as the scenes of fight drew nearer, the Kite started up above the water and struck a violent punch at the Bow-jaw, which threw it out of the water with tremendous force, and it fell several feet into the abyss, with an immense splash. This awesome piece of work caused much rage and commotion among the banditti, and a charge was made against him, which he repelled with his claws; at this moment the Prince of the Samori entered the stream, which he then directed to the swift current, to fall back into the adjacent river; the rest were turned aside and remained behind.
The Prince of the Samori directed this movement to the river mouth. On reaching the river-side, he, alone, proceeded across the water, and the Samori, hissed by the strong current, tumbled down the steep bank, at the approach of which all the survivors rushed back to the castle. After the navigator had turned out, his wife and six children were left behind on the banks.
Men met the amphibious craft on the starboard side and hoisted it ashore by the boom. They then carried the survivors to their shelter by the wan sound, with the hope that they would find another air-boat. They returned the next evening, a lone one of them — a young airman who had been shot in the leg. “Come on, you old lunatic! You just want to fly!” replied the rest of the boat, throwing him into the river, where he sank down until he was completely unconscious.
The next day, he drifted for a hundred miles by means of a piece of string. He had gone west before he had remembered where he was, and had wandered through the mountains for the last eighteen months, groping in the darkness for a way out of the caverns where the giant warriors slumber. When he came here, he had grown very frightened and was in search of somewhere safe to settle down and allow his past troubles to go away.
He had brought a jar with him that he could not quite recall where in the great maze of the cave he had found it; but in a corner of the cave there was a little door and he drew the latch and was allowed in. And just as soon as he was inside, he gasped for breath and was shown a roaring, huge window which broke out upon a banquet hall; and as he stared, he saw there a human shape sitting down upon a chair upon a pile of cheese. The people were all drinking. There was a fire burning. And they all turned towards him.
Bond said the fire was caused by overheated pipes in the building, which was evacuated before police arrived.
No one was injured in the blaze, which started just before 2am
Thank you, dear machine!