conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about Rincewind, Mambo, Unseen entitled Discworld.. Start with the sentence 'Discworld (video game): A secret brotherhood summons a dragon from its native dimension, so as to cause destruction and mayhem across the city of Ankh-Morpork'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Discworld (video game): A secret brotherhood summons a dragon from its native dimension, so as to cause destruction and mayhem across the city of Ankh-Morpork.\nThe following day, rumours of the dragon\'s rampage across the city reaches Unseen University.\nSince the Archchancellor wishes the involvement of at least one wizard in the matter (so that people don\'t question their usefulness), Rincewind is summoned to handle the problem.\nAfter acquiring a book to learn what is needed to track the dragon to its lair, Rincewind searches the city for the various components needed to assemble a dragon detector and brings them back to the Archchancellor.\nAfter the Archancellor lets slip that the dragon\'s lair is stocked with gold, Rincewind snatches the dragon detector from the Archchancellor, searches the city, finds the lair, and takes all the gold within it.\nJust before he leaves, the dragon stops him and requests his aid in removing the brotherhood\'s hold upon her, claiming they are using her for evil and are planning to make her go on a major rampage.\nTo do this, Rincewind is told to discover who they are, and recover a golden item from each, since these items are what they use to control the dragon.\nLearning that a book about summoning dragons had been stolen from the library at Unseen University the night before, Rincewind gains access to L-Space, allowing him to journey into the past, witness the theft, and follow the thief back to the brotherhood\'s hideout.\nAfter gaining entry in disguise, Rincewind learns that each member holds a role in the city — Chucky the Fool, the Thief, the Mason, the Chimney Sweep, the Fishmonger, and the Dunny King — and seeks to change the city so they can have a better future for themselves.\nAcquiring their golden items, Rincewind brings them to the dragon, only to learn it will not return to its dimension but seek revenge on the brotherhood before coming after him.\nWishing to stop this, Rincewind decides to prevent the summoning book from being stolen, by switching it for one that makes love custard.\nIn his efforts to be recognised for stopping the dragon, Rincewind gets into an argument with the Patrician over the existence of dragons, summoning the very same one back to Discworld.\nAn annoyed Patrician tasks Rincewind to deal with it.\nLearning that a hero with a million-to-one chance can stop it, Rincewind searches for the right components to be that hero, journeying across the city, the Disc, and even over the edge, to find the necessary items, including a sword that goes "ting", a birthmark, and a magic spell.\nWith the components acquired, he returns to the city\'s square, where Lady Ramkin, the owner of a local dragon sanctuary, is tied to a rock to be sacrificed to the dragon.\nDespite having what is needed to combat the dragon, Rincewind fails to stop it, and so seeks out an alternative method.\nTaking a swamp dragon called Mambo the 16th, and feeding him hot coals and a lit firecracker, Rincewind tries again, but Mambo stops working when he becomes infatuated with the dragon.\nRincewind then throws a love custard tart at the dragon.\nThe dragon falls in love with Mambo, and the two fly off to perform mating dances.\nRincewind heads to the pub for a pint to celebrate the end of his adventure.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Discworld
  Detritus, although born above the snowline on some distant mountain, a troll who had never seen a human until he was five years old, nevertheless was a policeman to his craggy, dragging fingertips and reacted accordingly.
  Detritus reached up and moved a little lever on the side of his helmet. A barely audible whirring noise became fractionally louder. The troll had a helmet with a clockwork fan, to blow air across his silicon brain when overheating threatened to reduce its operating efficiency. Right now he obviously needed a cooler head.
  William had not been brought up to respect the Watch. They weren't our kind of people. It was conceded that they were useful, like sheepdogs, because clearly someone had to keep people in order, heavens knew, but only a fool would let a sheepdog sleep in the parlour. The Watch, in other words, was a regrettably necessary sub-set of the criminal classes, a section of the population informally defined by Lord de Worde as anyone with less than a thousand dollars a year.
  William therefore felt predisposed to like Vimes, if only because of the type of enemies he made, but as far as he could see everything about the man could be prefaced by the word 'badly', as in -spoken, -educated and -in need of a drink.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.. Start with the sentence 'Mr Pin shrugged'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Mr Pin shrugged. Even with a metal bucket over his head, which would probably begin to corrode after a few minutes, there would be something recognizable about Mr Tulip.
  Mr Tulip fished out a small bag of what he had been assured was primo Smudge, but which would turn out to be sugar and powdered pigeon guano.
  To get that picture, he thought. That was a good reason. It was a reason that you could tell the world. But there was another reason. That... burst of darkness had frightened Mr Pin to his shrivelled soul. A lot of memories had come pouring back, all at once.
  Mr Pin had made a lot of enemies, but that hadn't worried him until now because all his enemies were dead. But the dark light had fired off bits of his mind and it had seemed to him that those enemies had not vanished from the universe but had merely gone a long way away, from which point they were watching him. And it was a long way away only from his point of view – from their point of view they could reach out and touch him.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: William headed towards the crowd around the smashed wagon. Many people were in distant pursuit of the barrels, and the odd scream suggested that thirsty people seldom realize how hard it is to stop a hundred gallons of beer in a big oak cask when it's on a roll.
  He dutifully noted down the name on the side of the dray. A couple of men were helping the horses up, but they did not appear to have much to do with beer delivery. They appeared to be men who simply wanted to help lost horses, and take them home and make them better. If this had to mean dyeing areas of their coats and swearing blind they'd owned them for the past two years, then so be it.
  It was a long afternoon. One barrel had rolled into a barber shop and exploded. Some of the brewer's men turned up, and there was a fight with several of the barrels' new owners, who claimed rights of salvage. One enterprising man tapped a barrel by the roadside and set up a temporary pub. Otto arrived. He took pictures of barrel rescuers. He took a picture of the fight. He took pictures of the Watch arriving to arrest everyone still standing. He took pictures of the white-haired old lady and the proud Captain Carrot and, in his excitement, of his thumb.
  She shrugged. 'Really true? Who knows? This is a newspaper, isn't it? It just has to be true until tomorrow.'
  And behind her the big black vampire of a printing press waited to be fed, and to be brought alive in the dark of the night for the light of the morning. It chopped the complexities of the world into little stories, and it was always hungry.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It chopped the complexities of the world into little stories, and it was always hungry. Many people were in distant pursuit of the barrels, and the odd scream suggested that thirsty people seldom realize how hard it is to stop a hundred gallons of beer in a big oak cask when it's on a roll.
  He dutifully noted down the name on the side of the dray. A couple of men were helping the horses up, but they did not appear to have much to do with beer delivery. They appeared to be men who simply wanted to help lost horses, and take them home and make them better. If this had to mean dyeing areas of their coats and swearing blind they'd owned them for the past two years, then so be it.
  It was a long afternoon. One barrel had rolled into a barber shop and exploded. Some of the brewer's men turned up, and there was a fight with several of the barrels' new owners, who claimed rights of salvage. One enterprising man tapped a barrel by the roadside and set up a temporary pub. Otto arrived. He took pictures of barrel rescuers. He took a picture of the fight. He took pictures of the Watch arriving to arrest everyone still standing. He took pictures of the white-haired old lady and the proud Captain Carrot and, in his excitement, of his thumb.
  She shrugged. 'Really true? Who knows? This is a newspaper, isn't it? It just has to be true until tomorrow.'
  And behind her the big black vampire of a printing press waited to be fed, and to be brought alive in the dark of the night for the light of the morning.William headed towards the crowd around the smashed wagon.