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AI Storytime!


Professional Watermelon Farmer
The grinning fox slapped the hooker's ass, and did another line of cocaine.

As the room continued to smoke, Ruby became extremely flustered. She puked twice. The past several years had taught her that it was important to take it one gulp at a time, to taste it, and then to spit it back out. She could taste something smoky. The brawler coughed hard, fainted, and then woke up.

The scientist and her cats looked incredibly dirty and disappointed as she came around. "Woah! You okay? Could you stand up?"

Ruby moved her torso, then her head. She smiled. "Yeah… thanks, man." The man winked at her. "Just need to collect my stuff."

Kit H. Ruppell

Exterminieren! Exterminieren!
Kazooie was a total bitch, but at least she was cute. Lenna wasn't. She just kept getting her ass handed to her.

For those of you who don't know, Kazooie and Lenna were originally cast as players in The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. As a result, the two shared a rather special bond.


Ramus was an everyday guy who just wanted to have fun. He didn't have the life of a princess, so his life was hard. In contrast, Princess Lala was a bright, carefree princess with a princess attitude.


Tina was also a princess who just wanted to have fun. Her goal was to become a leading singer.

This reads like an Uncyclopedia article XD


Well-Known Member
He was entirely too trusting. He didn't check with the other diners. And he went on his first date with a woman he met on OkCupid. They just met each other online and had no idea he was dating a girl he'd just met.

"I met his mom, but I didn't tell her we were engaged and that he was dating a girl before we got engaged," she said.

So it was that Shonquille was like a fish out of water.

"I've never really dated before," Shonquille said. "I didn't know anything about the dating scene. I'm not very good with girls."

The night they had their first date she bought her boyfriend a bottle of champagne for their first dance


Professional Watermelon Farmer
Hey, gimmie that, it's mine! Right now, it's the only thing that has real power in this house. So let me get in touch with my spirit animal and play a tango. What's her name? Chara...tocha, toche! Can I ask her how she likes her roundaboutness? When she does a moonshow, she hands you a t-shirt that reads "A soul enters a dance." There's a fungal toxin in here. No one here has the faintest idea what this is. Couldn't you find out? You'd be more useful playing Duck Tails on there. I've heard that the moogle hates truffles. Did you hear that?


Lo thy doom-fallen sons.

Thy loathsome heart shall be cut out by

Thy sword! Thy soul, which became

Bacchic madness, shall be buried in

Malt, ash, and darkness! Thy spirit,

Whom with a wicked and vile guilt

I cast from this SAME earth, shall be

Besmeared and degraded by God's yoke.

Thou shalt feed on sword, on cross, on mud!

Thou shalt rot by the torment of cruel fire,

Mourning all for thy blasphemy against thine All!

I will that they all perish! I will return

To take them from thy unfeeling hand.

Somebody should try taking the last line of the AI's completion and run with it, just to see how long a 'story' you could make with it.
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Heh, I love this type of stuff. I have a modified version of the GPT-2 which I can generate as much text as I want so that's why this one is so long.
It's the start of the classic Navy Seal copypasta, but the AI put a very strange twist on the classic we all know and love, I hope nobody here is a groundhog/woodchuck:

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little cocksucking dog?! I will have you know I graduated top of my class in the fucking Woodchuck Hunter Society, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on the head offices of major businesses so that I may extend my head of steam, and to further spread my influence over all things woodchuck related. I am trained in gorilla warfare, and I'm the top shot on a gorilla raid team, and I'se killing my prey and eating them. No one has ever come and said a word to me about woodchucks, and I am not just some fucking woodchuck, I am the fucking Woodchuck Hunters' Society and I am fucking hunting every fucking woodchuck that comes in sight. You are nothing to me but just another fucking target. I will hunt down every fucking woodchuck in sight, and I will fucking kill every last one of you fucking woodchucks! You think you can get away with saying that shit to a woodchuck? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the globe and your fucking head is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, woodchuck. The storm which wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Woodchuck Hunters' Society and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable little brains out. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" remark was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn woodchuck. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.

Foxy Emy

*Mischivious Noises*
Welcome to the Mischief Mart! This blog is all about what we bring to the party. Pico, Max and Leo are going to be the puppet masters, each will be taking over a new suit of armor and if the costume is good enough they may even be able to wield magic!

We will be having some fun and support each other with all our wants and needs, this can all be done for free if you want. Pico and Leo will bring you so much fun this year! You might see us out and about in League Form either traveling from party to party or bringing back the hobby or you might just get up and make all of us famous. Don't worry, it will not be any fun without you guys!


Professional Watermelon Farmer
Minty Cheetah relaxed in his new cage, letting out a loud, yearning purr: this was no ordinary zoo.

"This is his home," said Professor David Dodd of Queen Mary University. "He has never known anything else. He has lost a great deal of weight and is completely unweaned. He is an amazing animal."

Mr Dodd, who is director of the Cheetah Conservation Trust, said Mr Santi had moved from a mere dozen adults to 2,000 at the time of his death.

Although he has spent all of his life in captivity, his mother, Paula, was alive before he was born.

Image copyright Luke Wong Image caption The Cheetah Conservation Trust

Kit H. Ruppell

Exterminieren! Exterminieren!
No number of student bodies, security guards, or shiny objects could contain this explosive primal rage. I backed away as the stingingest eruption began, eyes focused on something that was certainly not in the room. The home plate. The foul end of the foul alleyway, that wicked gemstone that could not seem to keep itself hidden. The oily iron of the double, long ago, and only recently reinstalled as a shrine of indifference and vengeance. I ducked around the table like a roadrunner leaving the dust pile, leaving a quiet signature in its wake. My feet glided behind me as I walked back, careful not to reveal the pathway of hatred that it left, a formless thing that they had not a clue of or control over, yet the ravenous hatred was stronger


The Drunk Skunk. Metal and Beer. FckNzs.
Thrashy the Skunk was brewing beer, when suddenly the phone rang. It was Bryan in Europe. Skunk's friends were having a party at a friend's house. Bryan was only a few days away from returning home to Denver. His friends had invited Johnny J and the Cowboy Tom on a one-day, 90-mile road trip. Johnny J and the Cowboy Tom were now headed to Blarney, Pennsylvania, and were going to beerland to celebrate the fraternization of Bucktown (and possibly Samuel Adams). So, after months of attempts, Skunk had the beer and brats, ready to make some money. But, and this was a big but, Skunk needed to get the Jolly Old Stump to the party.


Fanatic Artist
A new cult is growing in which members believe the controversial wiki Encyclopaedia Dramatica to be fact. It is called the Justice Battalion, and it gives praise to members' thought-provoking edits to the controversial wiki, and to John Bain, who runs the site.

Created in 2007 by John Bain, then a junior software engineer and self-styled amateur wrestler, Encyclopaedia Dramatica is now edited by hundreds of volunteers. Bain explains: "They [the detractors] are a bunch of old retired academics from the librarians' union and the press room at the Cambridge Union debating society."

Why bother with politics? But critics say the site is more than just a teenage prank – they say it is a way to delegitimise


Dammit tell me more!


Wholesome Vixen
Luci Lightbringer, the black vixen, tumbled and twisted across the dancefloor to the hard and roaring music in exultant fervor. She was the richest and most popular girl in the school and she wanted to be the first to hit the crowd at this special event. She climbed up onto the stage and let out a blast of energy. The songs she sang were full of joy and ambition, but they were also full of revenge and drama. She was a powerhouse, an exciting force who possessed enough toned muscle to casually toss around two entire big dogs on the dance floor. I had never been inside a stadium in my life, but a wrestler was something that I had seen done in movies on an endless loop.
She was surrounded by the glassy


Professional Watermelon Farmer
"Hey Baby!", ejaculated the fox. "That's the last time I set foot in this dump!"

"You've really lived up to your end of the bargain, haven't you?" shouted Coco, in a voice that she no longer expected to hear coming out of a hole, somewhere.

"I told you that you were a right cad about not having a say in it," he replied, bringing his foot back to rest on the log in front of him. He snorted as he saw Coco's hands flexing into fists that were expected to contain even more Emeralds than her own.

"You're not going to touch any of it until I tell you to, aren't you?" she asked.

"I'll just keep it clean"


The Drunk Skunk. Metal and Beer. FckNzs.
Psilocybe semilanceata, the old purple dragon, was drinking tea and sitting in the sun. It had worked the plant much, and was beginning to feel relaxed. This dragon was huge, and seemed to absorb in its daily life the energy of the plant in its desert. Next to it lay a tranquil-looking small tree. "Water?" "Yes, tea. Please. Please water the plant. It's not thirsty." The watering was steady, and soon the large dragon was saturated. Its tail blazed as it stirred in the pot. It's head rose and fell a dozen times during the course of an hour, or so it seemed to the barely attentive humans who stood watch outside its glass ball.


Definitely not a lizard
Have you heard the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the wise? At the end of the war, he was asked to kill the dark lord, who had survived the battle, by spitting on the floor. Plagueis swallowed the poison, but not the pain. In our war for freedom, when that rage of the dark side had died down, how many crimes and murders have you committed that will shock the conscience of the Jedi Council?

Resurrect Vader and the Clone Wars fall as they always have: Oligarchy vs. Democracy, Masters vs. Students, Authoritarian vs. Libertarian, Jedi vs. Republic. The books that told the story of the Star Wars universe are a crafty tale of envy and hate against those who followed the Jedi Code and stole our Jedi holy


Professional Watermelon Farmer
Little Tommy Tiger should have known the first day at his new school would be rough.

They were tough, punishing, miserable, inhospitable environments, where a bully tried to shut him up with a huge stick. His hair was long and lank, and his socks were pretty old. He usually wore only underwear. He rolled his eyes when they called him little. "You see, little Tommy? That's a lot like the way you look," the bully would say, his hands grabbing Tommy's ankles and knees.

The bullies never spoke to him, though he was sure they all did. He always smiled at them. When they called him "little" again, he repeated the word, smugly mocking himself.
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The Drunk Skunk. Metal and Beer. FckNzs.
One day, Timmy the Wolf went skiing at Adelboden. He went by himself on his friend's snowboard, but he could still hear his brother's shouts. When he skied down on his own, his brother followed. When Timmy got down on his own, a giant ice block fell right on top of him.
It wasn't immediately clear why the ice block came crashing down on him, but Timmy's father was beyond excited to find out. On their neighbor's snowboard, he showed the first time he used a metal detector on it, it was mounted so low it wouldn't stay in place. Years later, when Timmy's sister discovered a hidden access tunnel, she would share her


Professional Watermelon Farmer
The two ponies crept into the cave, painted the dragon's toenails pink, then fell into a fit of giggling.

"Look! She was the one who gave us that surprise!" They hooted, giving each other kisses.

"We've gotta get that silly little rascal."

"Okay, Rarity?" Rarity said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You sure you don't want to join us?"

"No, we're just here for the eggs." Twilight said. "I don't want to hurt your feelings. I mean, you're your friend, but..."

"I know. I just don't think that's the place to be right now." Rarity cut her off, snickering.


The Drunk Skunk. Metal and Beer. FckNzs.
Rivella the Vixen was working at her store, when a man came in and called for her to hand over some of the merchandise. Vixen told him to leave, but he continued to ignore her requests, even as she caught him putting a machete to a rack of merchandise and suggested that he leave immediately. Vixen told the store manager about the incident.

However, he was allowed to leave and went to a different spot where he took his machete and returned to the store. Vixen saw him reach into the freezer, where she later found the man's head sitting inside the fridge. Vixen called for help and the officers were called in to investigate the incident.


A group of seminary students went to a strip club and began throwing money at the pole dancers for them to put on more clothes. One girl in particular kept offering more money, which the pole dancers accepted.

The woman got a job as a strip club manager in 1992, and was known for making sure to dress up the pole dancers to their finest, even in summer.

She started going to strip clubs almost daily after becoming pregnant, an Australian pastor discovered, but a photo later surfaced of the 55-year-old stripping naked in front of a life-size porn of herself wearing a bikini.

The pastor who snapped the photo, Jerry Roberti, told the YBOP magazine that during his church visits in St. George in his car he started talking to a group of mentally ill people. One of them, he said, "has taken his life before and is saying that God wants it."

Dr. Bobi said the man showed him the spiral-bound Bible and said the theme was about the Christian people who died at Jesus' feet.

This year, April 20 is the first day of Shabbat, the Jewish day of rest.

"My kids and my wife were in the synagogue and they said they felt a call. They were prayerful for God to help them take their lives," he said.

Roberti took the picture.


Professional Watermelon Farmer
Eddie stumbled down the street, bemoaning the fact that the city was not wholesome, healthy or clean, dissolutely waving a mop.

He searched around, but found no sign of the number five kid that he called out to. He then threw out the gutter trash bags and wadded up newspapers until his body was covered in a mixture of greasy hair and whitewash. He felt ashamed, depressed, and so happy he was covered in grime. Feeling immensely guilty, he sobbed all over the road, leaving a trail of wet and unwashed rag sticks. A blonde haired boy and his girlfriend walked over to see what was wrong. The boy looked like a little old man and had huge tears rolling down his face.


An air show held in Warsaw resulted in tragedy after a group of German Stukas flew over a nursing home at low altitude, causing 5 heart attacks, 3 strokes and 2 premature bowel movements.

Following a police investigation, each Stuka pilot and his crew were fined and this week a judge sentenced them to 30 days in jail and half a year's probation. The Stukas also have to complete 150 hours of community service.

"I've seen other cases where you haven't solved it with this type of criminal behavior," said former New York City Police Commissioner Howard Safir. "This case has generated a lot of discussion on how criminal charges might have been assessed."


38 year old Patrick Lambert, also known as Pissy P due to his severe urinary incontinence enjoys beheading pinypon dolls on his free time. It has now been confirmed that Lambert is not only a pinypon paraplegic but has been given "an honourary title" at the pinypon festival in Cantabria, Spain.

The group, which Lambert joined in 1994 when he was six years old, recently held their 10th annual pinypon festival in his memory. Related: Welcome To The World Of Tits, And Failed Gay Transvestites And Why Pinypon Stumps Are Popular (PES) The Spaniards will doubtless be giving Lambert a round of applause, but they don't seem to have fully grasped his genius.

The fact that he's a nebbish drunkard who's the real protagonist, and the fact that the book's so dull and grim and self-important to the extreme. Oh, and those hipster defenders: they like to leave rather strange, self-serving comments on every review of comics I ever get. No wonder. If I'm a reader, I can't be 100% sure about their words. And how could I be? It's been a long time since I really read any.


Well-Known Member
the four naked cheerleaders ran quite fast, giggling constantly, but Preacher Smith could run very fast when properly motivated. He returned after a few minutes to the opposite side of the room, and saw that everyone had taken up position around the perimeter of the cupboard. The four girls were back there, staring at the ceiling and giggling, while Preacher Smith sat at the head of the room.

There were no door locks on the cupboard, so the four naked cheerleaders were free to roam about the place freely. One of the girls touched Preacher Smith's leg and drew him close to her and sniffed him while she whispered seductively into his ear. Preacher Smith smiled at her and touched her cheek before gazing into her golden brown eyes.