conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about Miranda, Lizzie, Diana entitled Beggars and Choosers.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Beggars and Choosers (novel): The novel details events from July 2115 to the summer of 2116.\nUnlike its predecessor, which was written in third person limited omniscient, Beggars and Choosers is written from the first-person view of three characters.\nThough she does not narrate, a fourth character is critical to the story: The novel opens with the narration of Diana Covington, detailing the beginning of her service with the GSEA.\nShe is commissioned by her superior, Colin Kowalski, to "tail" members of the SuperSleepless community, specifically Miranda Sharifi.\nSupers have been traveling around the country, incognito, and the GSEA wants to know why.\nDiana monitors Miranda Sharifi at a hearing of the Science Court, where Huevos Verdes has submitted a new product, the "Cell Cleaner (TM)," a nanobiotic pseudo-virus which can enter the cells of the body, perform repairs, and neutralize any foreign matter.\nCancer, diseases, colds and so forth could be a thing of the past.\nAssuming the Cell Cleaner is passed by the Science Court.\nIn the end, a further-research permit is denied, helped along by Miranda Sharifi\'s insulting opening statement, in which she accuses jury (some of whom would have been on her side) of shortsightedness, stupidity and elitism.\nIt appears that Miranda wanted to lose the case, but Diana cannot imagine why.\nAfter the court is adjourned, Diana follows Miri on a gravrail to New York state.\nDrew Arlen returns to La Isla, not only to meet with Miranda Sharifi, but to receive statistical feedback on his concerts as gathered by the Supers; the Supers are using him as a form of societal control, attempting to engender specific behavioral tendencies via his concerts.\n("I have stopped calling myself an artist".\n) At the end of his visit he is commissioned to create a concert, "The Warrior," that promotes risk-taking behavior as desirable.\nIt also becomes clear that his love for Miri has dulled over the years; in order to overcome an embarrassing inconvenience, he resorts to thoughts of the woman he truly loves: Leisha Camden, the woman who became a foster mother to him.\nBilly Washington lives in East Oleanta, a Liver community in New York.\nThough he is quite old, he has become foster father to an eleven-year-old Liver child, Lizzie Francy, whose intelligence outweighs her Liver conditioning, to the consternation of her mother Annie.\nEast Oleanta is suffering something of a crisis: rabid raccoons have been seen nearby, a dangerous proposition when the only source of medical assistance, the medunit, might break down at any time.\nEventually, East Oleanta mayor Jack Sawicki organizes a hunt for the raccoons; Billy\'s hunting partner Doug Kane suffers a heart attack, while Billy himself is menaced by one of the raccoons.\nHe is saved by a beam of light, projected by a girl with a head too large for her body and black hair in a red ribbon.\nShe provides medical assistance to Kane and takes care of the raccoons.\nUnfortunately, Lizzie comes down with a sickness shortly thereafter; Billy is informed that nothing can be done, since the gravrail is broken, the medunit is broken, and none of his elected officials are available.\nThis time he is saved by a donkey-gone-native calling herself Victoria Turner.\nWhen Lizzie recovers the next morning, she is immediately full of questions for "Vicki" (Diana) to answer.\n"Dr.\nTurner" also explains the constant breakdowns: a nanomachine dissembler, tuned to attack an alloy named duragem that is used in just about all modern machinery, is loose across the nation.\nThe donkeys didn\'t release it—in fact, no one knows who released it (the Supers have discovered that it had multiple epicenters)—and (assuming they are able) decide it is best not to stop it.\nIn Seattle, Drew Arlen is taken to a now-seized illegal genetic-engineering lab by members of the GSEA.\nThey show him some of the products of the research, in the hopes that he will act as a messenger to Huevos Verdes and explain the GSEA\'s stance: that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, and the Cell Cleaner\'s magic, too advanced for the donkeys to comprehend, is too dangerous to allow.\nHe also reveals that holoterminals throughout the Adirondack Mountains have been seeded with subliminal messages regarding "Eden," a technological haven that, supposedly, donkeys don\'t know about.\nAfter his concert (during which he almost dies due to the aircar being struck by the duragem dissembler), he flies to Huevos Verdes to force a showdown with Miri; Leisha manages to blackmail her way on board.\nOn the way, the plane contracts the duragem dissembler and goes down over upcountry Georgia.\nThough Leisha and Drew survive the crash, they are ambushed by a grass-roots militia, and Leisha killed by its leader, Jimmy Francis Marion Hubbley.\nDrew is taken captive and finds himself in an illegal genemod lab, now the Francis Marion Freedom Outpost.\nHubbley is a leader in a "revolution" that aims to throw off all foreign oppressors—in this case, anyone genemod—and, among other things, released the duragem dissembler to do it.\nDiana is attempting to learn all she can about Eden, which she is sure is a SuperSleepless creation.\nTo that end, she bribes Lizzie access to donkey education software; within a month, Lizzie is hacking into donkey-corporation databases.\nShe also follows Billy on one of his forest sojourns, hoping he will lead her to Eden.\nWhen the distribution warehouse fails to open for two weeks in a row, the Livers break in.\nOnly to discover that the age of prosperity is truly over, as the warehouse is empty.\nBilly hides "Vicki" away from the mob for fear that she, obviously a donkey, will be harmed in reprisal.\nMayor Sawicki, under the influence of "The Warrior," proposes a bold plan to travel eight miles through snowy mountains to the nearest town (Cogansville) and bring back food; Billy joins the expedition.\nThough the expedition is successful, the group is jumped by a group of stomps, several members slain (including Mayor Sawicki), and most of the food stolen.\nDiana, sickened not only by this tragedy but by Lizzie\'s analysis that the duragem dissembler was released from Eden, calls in the GSEA.\nAgents arrive within the hour, seize the illegal genemod lab, and blow it up to prevent anything else from escaping; but Diana discovers that this lab was not, and could not have been, Eden.\nDrew is in captivity with the Francis Marion underground militia for 67 days.\nDuring that time he starts to realize just how little of the master plan Miranda has confided in him.\nHe also discovers a coup attempt brewing against Jimmy Hubbley, and uses it to lure his bodyguard (who is in on the plan) to her death.\nSimultaneously the coup actually goes off, and in the chaos Drew negotiates to be left behind while the remnants of the cell flees with the help of the United States Army.\nDrew gets to a terminal and places a call for help.\nTo the GSEA.\nIn East Oleanta, Lizzie is once again ill, with something the medunit cannot diagnose or cure.\nBilly, moved by "Vicki\'s" love for Lizzie, decides to take them both, as well as Annie, to Eden to see if the large-headed girl with the red ribbon can do anything.\nMiranda allows them in, even though Diana\'s admittance alerts the GSEA, and injects all four with the Cell Cleaner.\nWhen the GSEA agents arrive, accompanied by Drew Arlen, the two have a bitter fight over whether Miranda has the right to choose for 175 million Americans, only to be put in their place by Billy Washington.\n"Don\'t you see, it don\'t matter who should control [this technology], them.\nIt only matters who can.\n" However, Miranda\'s closing words, spoken to Diana (who is also under arrest) suggest a deeper conspiracy: "More in the syringe".\nAfter extensive medical surveillance, Diana reunites with the Francys just in time to catch a time-delay broadcast by Miranda Sharifi, explaining what she meant.\nThe "Change syringe" contains a set of nano-engineered machinery that totally remodels the human body on a cellular level.\nAnyone injected will be infused with nanotubules leading inward from the skin, which are capable of dissembling organic matter on a molecular level.\nThey are also infused with bacteriorhodopsin, allowing photosynthesis.\nIt is now possible for a human being to lie on the ground, in the sunlight, for thirty minutes, and absorb all the energy and nutrients they need for a 24-hour period.\nOdds and ends include nitrogen-fixing microorganisms, mechanisms to keep the digestive tract in working order in the absence of "mouth food," and of course the Cell Cleaner itself.\n"You are now autotrophic," Miranda ends the broadcast.\n"You are now free".\nBilly, now spry and jaunty, has joined the Francys and Vicki Turner (who has legally changed her name) as a member of a mass migration to West Virginia, where Miranda Sharifi is imprisoned at the Oak Mountain Maximum-Security Federal Prison.\nAnnie is having trouble with empty-nest syndrome; children, even those as young as thirteen-year-old Lizzie, don\'t need their parents anymore, having been rendered practically invulnerable to disease, starvation and casual injury.\nLikewise, the Livers no longer need the donkeys, many of whom are moving to snatch up the Change syringes for themselves.\nThe nation is returning to a network of small, localized governments, with some groups (such as East Oleanta) making the transition far more smoothly, while the federal government simply stays uninvolved.\nVicki, for her part, is worried that the underground resistance movement which released the duragem dissembler will use the transitioning period to its advantage by arming the Livers and encouraging violence against donkeys, who are the few people still insisting that America exists.\nFortunately, Vicki\'s dismay is unfounded: when the underground rebellion, now calling itself "Will and Idea," begin to bomb the Liver migration for their adherence to the abomination Miranda, the prison\'s Y-shield protects everyone from destruction on the order of the President.\nVicki is then allowed (on Miranda\'s request) to enter the prison and speak to Miranda personally.\nShe explains that the Supers have decided to take a hands-off approach, to prevent the people from becoming too dependent on them; Miranda will serve out her sentence, while Vicki returns to her family amongst the Livers.\nDrew Arlen tries to visit Miranda in jail, only to be told that, though he has judicial clearance to see the prisoner, the prisoner will not see him.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Beggars and Choosers (novel): The novel details events from July 2115 to the summer of 2116.\nUnlike its predecessor, which was written in third person limited omniscient, Beggars and Choosers is written from the first-person view of three characters.\nThough she does not narrate, a fourth character is critical to the story: The novel opens with the narration of Diana Covington, detailing the beginning of her service with the GSEA.\nShe is commissioned by her superior, Colin Kowalski, to "tail" members of the SuperSleepless community, specifically Miranda Sharifi.\nSupers have been traveling around the country, incognito, and the GSEA wants to know why.\nDiana monitors Miranda Sharifi at a hearing of the Science Court, where Huevos Verdes has submitted a new product, the "Cell Cleaner (TM)," a nanobiotic pseudo-virus which can enter the cells of the body, perform repairs, and neutralize any foreign matter.\nCancer, diseases, colds and so forth could be a thing of the past.\nAssuming the Cell Cleaner is passed by the Science Court.\nIn the end, a further-research permit is denied, helped along by Miranda Sharifi\'s insulting opening statement, in which she accuses jury (some of whom would have been on her side) of shortsightedness, stupidity and elitism.\nIt appears that Miranda wanted to lose the case, but Diana cannot imagine why.\nAfter the court is adjourned, Diana follows Miri on a gravrail to New York state.\nDrew Arlen returns to La Isla, not only to meet with Miranda Sharifi, but to receive statistical feedback on his concerts as gathered by the Supers; the Supers are using him as a form of societal control, attempting to engender specific behavioral tendencies via his concerts.\n("I have stopped calling myself an artist".\n) At the end of his visit he is commissioned to create a concert, "The Warrior," that promotes risk-taking behavior as desirable.\nIt also becomes clear that his love for Miri has dulled over the years; in order to overcome an embarrassing inconvenience, he resorts to thoughts of the woman he truly loves: Leisha Camden, the woman who became a foster mother to him.\nBilly Washington lives in East Oleanta, a Liver community in New York.\nThough he is quite old, he has become foster father to an eleven-year-old Liver child, Lizzie Francy, whose intelligence outweighs her Liver conditioning, to the consternation of her mother Annie.\nEast Oleanta is suffering something of a crisis: rabid raccoons have been seen nearby, a dangerous proposition when the only source of medical assistance, the medunit, might break down at any time.\nEventually, East Oleanta mayor Jack Sawicki organizes a hunt for the raccoons; Billy\'s hunting partner Doug Kane suffers a heart attack, while Billy himself is menaced by one of the raccoons.\nHe is saved by a beam of light, projected by a girl with a head too large for her body and black hair in a red ribbon.\nShe provides medical assistance to Kane and takes care of the raccoons.\nUnfortunately, Lizzie comes down with a sickness shortly thereafter; Billy is informed that nothing can be done, since the gravrail is broken, the medunit is broken, and none of his elected officials are available.\nThis time he is saved by a donkey-gone-native calling herself Victoria Turner.\nWhen Lizzie recovers the next morning, she is immediately full of questions for "Vicki" (Diana) to answer.\n"Dr.\nTurner" also explains the constant breakdowns: a nanomachine dissembler, tuned to attack an alloy named duragem that is used in just about all modern machinery, is loose across the nation.\nThe donkeys didn\'t release it—in fact, no one knows who released it (the Supers have discovered that it had multiple epicenters)—and (assuming they are able) decide it is best not to stop it.\nIn Seattle, Drew Arlen is taken to a now-seized illegal genetic-engineering lab by members of the GSEA.\nThey show him some of the products of the research, in the hopes that he will act as a messenger to Huevos Verdes and explain the GSEA\'s stance: that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, and the Cell Cleaner\'s magic, too advanced for the donkeys to comprehend, is too dangerous to allow.\nHe also reveals that holoterminals throughout the Adirondack Mountains have been seeded with subliminal messages regarding "Eden," a technological haven that, supposedly, donkeys don\'t know about.\nAfter his concert (during which he almost dies due to the aircar being struck by the duragem dissembler), he flies to Huevos Verdes to force a showdown with Miri; Leisha manages to blackmail her way on board.\nOn the way, the plane contracts the duragem dissembler and goes down over upcountry Georgia.\nThough Leisha and Drew survive the crash, they are ambushed by a grass-roots militia, and Leisha killed by its leader, Jimmy Francis Marion Hubbley.\nDrew is taken captive and finds himself in an illegal genemod lab, now the Francis Marion Freedom Outpost.\nHubbley is a leader in a "revolution" that aims to throw off all foreign oppressors—in this case, anyone genemod—and, among other things, released the duragem dissembler to do it.\nDiana is attempting to learn all she can about Eden, which she is sure is a SuperSleepless creation.\nTo that end, she bribes Lizzie access to donkey education software; within a month, Lizzie is hacking into donkey-corporation databases.\nShe also follows Billy on one of his forest sojourns, hoping he will lead her to Eden.\nWhen the distribution warehouse fails to open for two weeks in a row, the Livers break in.\nOnly to discover that the age of prosperity is truly over, as the warehouse is empty.\nBilly hides "Vicki" away from the mob for fear that she, obviously a donkey, will be harmed in reprisal.\nMayor Sawicki, under the influence of "The Warrior," proposes a bold plan to travel eight miles through snowy mountains to the nearest town (Cogansville) and bring back food; Billy joins the expedition.\nThough the expedition is successful, the group is jumped by a group of stomps, several members slain (including Mayor Sawicki), and most of the food stolen.\nDiana, sickened not only by this tragedy but by Lizzie\'s analysis that the duragem dissembler was released from Eden, calls in the GSEA.\nAgents arrive within the hour, seize the illegal genemod lab, and blow it up to prevent anything else from escaping; but Diana discovers that this lab was not, and could not have been, Eden.\nDrew is in captivity with the Francis Marion underground militia for 67 days.\nDuring that time he starts to realize just how little of the master plan Miranda has confided in him.\nHe also discovers a coup attempt brewing against Jimmy Hubbley, and uses it to lure his bodyguard (who is in on the plan) to her death.\nSimultaneously the coup actually goes off, and in the chaos Drew negotiates to be left behind while the remnants of the cell flees with the help of the United States Army.\nDrew gets to a terminal and places a call for help.\nTo the GSEA.\nIn East Oleanta, Lizzie is once again ill, with something the medunit cannot diagnose or cure.\nBilly, moved by "Vicki\'s" love for Lizzie, decides to take them both, as well as Annie, to Eden to see if the large-headed girl with the red ribbon can do anything.\nMiranda allows them in, even though Diana\'s admittance alerts the GSEA, and injects all four with the Cell Cleaner.\nWhen the GSEA agents arrive, accompanied by Drew Arlen, the two have a bitter fight over whether Miranda has the right to choose for 175 million Americans, only to be put in their place by Billy Washington.\n"Don\'t you see, it don\'t matter who should control [this technology], them.\nIt only matters who can.\n" However, Miranda\'s closing words, spoken to Diana (who is also under arrest) suggest a deeper conspiracy: "More in the syringe".\nAfter extensive medical surveillance, Diana reunites with the Francys just in time to catch a time-delay broadcast by Miranda Sharifi, explaining what she meant.\nThe "Change syringe" contains a set of nano-engineered machinery that totally remodels the human body on a cellular level.\nAnyone injected will be infused with nanotubules leading inward from the skin, which are capable of dissembling organic matter on a molecular level.\nThey are also infused with bacteriorhodopsin, allowing photosynthesis.\nIt is now possible for a human being to lie on the ground, in the sunlight, for thirty minutes, and absorb all the energy and nutrients they need for a 24-hour period.\nOdds and ends include nitrogen-fixing microorganisms, mechanisms to keep the digestive tract in working order in the absence of "mouth food," and of course the Cell Cleaner itself.\n"You are now autotrophic," Miranda ends the broadcast.\n"You are now free".\nBilly, now spry and jaunty, has joined the Francys and Vicki Turner (who has legally changed her name) as a member of a mass migration to West Virginia, where Miranda Sharifi is imprisoned at the Oak Mountain Maximum-Security Federal Prison.\nAnnie is having trouble with empty-nest syndrome; children, even those as young as thirteen-year-old Lizzie, don\'t need their parents anymore, having been rendered practically invulnerable to disease, starvation and casual injury.\nLikewise, the Livers no longer need the donkeys, many of whom are moving to snatch up the Change syringes for themselves.\nThe nation is returning to a network of small, localized governments, with some groups (such as East Oleanta) making the transition far more smoothly, while the federal government simply stays uninvolved.\nVicki, for her part, is worried that the underground resistance movement which released the duragem dissembler will use the transitioning period to its advantage by arming the Livers and encouraging violence against donkeys, who are the few people still insisting that America exists.\nFortunately, Vicki\'s dismay is unfounded: when the underground rebellion, now calling itself "Will and Idea," begin to bomb the Liver migration for their adherence to the abomination Miranda, the prison\'s Y-shield protects everyone from destruction on the order of the President.\nVicki is then allowed (on Miranda\'s request) to enter the prison and speak to Miranda personally.\nShe explains that the Supers have decided to take a hands-off approach, to prevent the people from becoming too dependent on them; Miranda will serve out her sentence, while Vicki returns to her family amongst the Livers.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Beggars and Choosers
  I glanced around at all of the preppy coeds, accompanied by their equally preppy siblings and, if possible, even preppier parents. (Let me tell you, that added up to one heck of a lot of Madras and seersucker, and there was no shortage of those little ponies in the vicinity, either.) Clearly, it was an inherited gene, one that had completely bypassed my family tree. And like a J. Crew fall fashion show, parading up and down the staircase of my new apartment building, they carried floral Lilly Pulitzer garment bags, Lands' End totes, and groceries from Trader Joe's, not to mention that what looked like professional moving men cautiously lifted their brand new L.L.Bean furniture.
  Now, I could appreciate the simplicity and timelessness of classic preppy décor. Really, I could. But at that particular moment, I didn't have much time to debate the merits of sailboat striped canvas vs. full-grain, hand-sanded leather couch fabric, as I was perched rather precariously midway up the first flight of stairs, opposite my wild-haired and even wilder-eyed boyfriend, wrestling with a queen-size mattress. And losing. Badly.
  Hard to believe that the very same Cory Butana, who had never really belonged anywhere, was moving to live as male partners with his boyfriend of one month (or four years and one month, depending upon how you looked at it) into a tiny studio in the three-story brick apartment building just across the street from the Leighton University campus. Once again, not even slightly typical. And I certainly didn't give a hoot; I wouldn't switch places with a single one of those soon-to-be-yuppies who were swarming past me sporting Brooks Brothers chinos.
  Just then, the unlikely pair that we must have made, struggling for dominance over a queen-size mattress, caught the eye of a discerning underclassman. The dude stepped out of the doorway of his apartment, hair rather tousled, looking more as if he'd just stepped off a sailboat, and stared down at us in a clear attempt to surmise just exactly how the unpolished bad boy and the unassuming schoolboy fit together as roommates at L.U. But it didn't take long for the gawker to snap out of his musings, readjust the sweater he wore loosely tied around his popped-up collar, and return his attention to the rolling Ralph Lauren duffel bag waiting for him in the hall, and most probably whom he was going to get to buy beer for him that night.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Brett had stopped pacing and had moved directly in front of me. "Why in fuckin' tarnation would I wanna do somethin' like that?"
  He clearly wasn't catching on to the fact that I was setting him free. In all truth, he didn't look even slightly giddy with his newly found emancipation; no, the man looked much more as if he was going to be sick.
  So, I decided I'd help him out a little bit. I took both of his stone cold hands into mine, and then I let all my concerns just spill out. "You're asking me why? So you can be sure you're gay, that's why. Think about it for a minute—you've never dated before me, not men or women, and you've never come out, have you? And...." I was starting to come apart at the seams. "And Ian says that you aren't even gay, and his gaydar is like 99 percent accurate and...." And then I just unraveled. Thankfully, my freak-out (consisting mainly of frenzied breathing and an intense battle against tears) had closed my throat enough so that I was forced to stop babbling, that is, if I wanted to inhale.
  Brett squeezed my hands, and then gripped me by my forearms and shook me a little, as if to be certain I was actually sitting next to him, spouting this crazy nonsense. "You... you think I don't love you? And that I don't want you, like, uh... like in the sack?"
  And before I had a chance to even think about supplying him with a more comprehensive verbal answer, Brett had crumpled into a pile on the bed. "I fucked it up with you an' me! I gone and fucked it up again!" His first few sobs prevented more words for a mere moment. "I tried... so fuckin' hard to show ya... how much... how much I love ya! Every fuckin' d-day... I tried...." Sobs interspersed with distressed words. Then he burrowed right down into the blankets and pulled a pillow over his mass of blond tangles, muffling his desperate groans. In no time at all, muted, but still desperate, apologies surged forth from beneath the pillow. "Cory, baby, I'm so fuckin' sorry.... I didn't show you enough of my love, and I kept too much insida me, 'cause I didn't wanna scare you off.... Sorry, so fuckin' sorry."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "Why in fuckin' tarnation would I wanna do somethin' like that?"
  He clearly wasn't catching on to the fact that I was setting him free. In all truth, he didn't look even slightly giddy with his newly found emancipation; no, the man looked much more as if he was going to be sick.
  So, I decided I'd help him out a little bit. I took both of his stone cold hands into mine, and then I let all my concerns just spill out. "You're asking me why? So you can be sure you're gay, that's why. Think about it for a minute—you've never dated before me, not men or women, and you've never come out, have you? And...." I was starting to come apart at the seams. "And Ian says that you aren't even gay, and his gaydar is like 99 percent accurate and...." And then I just unraveled. Thankfully, my freak-out (consisting mainly of frenzied breathing and an intense battle against tears) had closed my throat enough so that I was forced to stop babbling, that is, if I wanted to inhale.
  Brett squeezed my hands, and then gripped me by my forearms and shook me a little, as if to be certain I was actually sitting next to him, spouting this crazy nonsense. "You... you think I don't love you? And that I don't want you, like, uh... like in the sack?"
  And before I had a chance to even think about supplying him with a more comprehensive verbal answer, Brett had crumpled into a pile on the bed. "I fucked it up with you an' me! I gone and fucked it up again!" His first few sobs prevented more words for a mere moment. "I tried... so fuckin' hard to show ya... how much... how much I love ya! Every fuckin' d-day... I tried...." Sobs interspersed with distressed words. Then he burrowed right down into the blankets and pulled a pillow over his mass of blond tangles, muffling his desperate groans. In no time at all, muted, but still desperate, apologies surged forth from beneath the pillow. "Cory, baby, I'm so fuckin' sorry.... I didn't show you enough of my love, and I kept too much insida me, 'cause I didn't wanna scare you off.... Sorry, so fuckin' sorry."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Time to call a spade a spade, huh? I was fuckin' thrilled down to my very bones to have a piece of paper that said Cory and me was legally married. Was most prob'ly gonna find me a purple frame and hang it up over our bed.
  And on that there dance floor we clung tight together, kinda the same way as we had since we was just a coupla broken and lonely teenagers. Sure, me and Cory was now bonded together on account of the love in our hearts that'd growed like a wild grape vine over the past five years, but now we was also bound in the eyes of our family and friends and the law and God, so's neither of us needed one thing more.
  Roderick sang them words of my heart, and I slow danced underneath a gigantic balloon rainbow, holdin' my own personal pot of gold in my arms.
  MIA KERICK is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don't ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
  Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology. Was most prob'ly gonna find me a purple frame and hang it up over our bed.
  And on that there dance floor we clung tight together, kinda the same way as we had since we was just a coupla broken and lonely teenagers. Sure, me and Cory was now bonded together on account of the love in our hearts that'd growed like a wild grape vine over the past five years, but now we was also bound in the eyes of our family and friends and the law and God, so's neither of us needed one thing more.
  Roderick sang them words of my heart, and I slow danced underneath a gigantic balloon rainbow, holdin' my own personal pot of gold in my arms.
  MIA KERICK is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don't ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
  Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality.Time to call a spade a spade, huh? I was fuckin' thrilled down to my very bones to have a piece of paper that said Cory and me was legally married.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first two paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Beggars and Choosers
  ALWAYS with me, it sure as shit was. An' it was real, all right, just like the heap of sun-yellow'd curls that hung down o'er my shoulders like the head of Mama's old mop. Real as them eyes that I always kept squinted in this kinda pissed-off glare and the "who gives a shit" smirk that refused to let go o' my lips. All day, ev'ry day, the damned thing fucked with my head, stole away all my breath. Even made me kinda dizzy sometimes, it did. I s'posed it was my cross to bear, not that I'd shake it, even if I could. 'Cause if I was gonna talk real straight, it'd saved my sorry ass more'n once, make my life easier... a fuckin' cakewalk, so t'speak. It told me what to go for and what to steer clear of like the friggin' plague. But still, sometimes I wondered if strangers could see it as plain as I could feel it: the gapin', festerin' wound that laid claim to the spot where my heart was s'posed to be.
  I turned back toward the restaurant to see Brian Deacon wavin' one o' his mile-long, gangly arms outta the Downtown Pub kitchen's backdoor. My new employer's shouts startled me outta my too-deep thinkin'. "Huh?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Once they got me offa the asshole, I took a look around for Cory. In the very same corner where he'd just got mauled, Cory simply stood there, all froze-up and glassy-eyed, maybe 'cause o' the shock of being handled like a friggin' sex toy, or maybe 'cause of my fucked-up (but I'd-do-it-again-in-a-split-fuckin'-second) reaction to it. And then, to add insult to injury, Cindy Clarkson chose that very moment to mosey right on over to Cory and tell him in this loud and accusin' sorta voice that he'd surely got his "babysitter" into a world of trouble, probably even fired.
  So's Cory was freaked out, I was pissed off, and Brian was furious. And as it turned out Brian was real fuckin' furious. He called the lot of us into his office. When we all got there, Cory kinda stumbled over to a chair in the corner, I leaned up against the wall by the door, while Brian perched himself on the edge of his cluttered desk. It was like some kinda three-way face-off.
  Okay, so's I totally lost it again. "Christ, Cory! You told a coupla fuckin' losers to get their hands outta yer pants! That's what you're s'posed to do!"
  Then the fuckin' strangest thing happened; Cory just broke down. He dropped right down onto his knees on the floor of Brian's office, stuck his head in his hands, and by the way his shoulders shook it sorta looked like he mighta started cryin'. Shoot me now!
  Me and Brian just stood there, gawkin' down at Cory. The kid wasn't no drama queen; this was not his usual behavior. No, sir.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: No, sir. In the very same corner where he'd just got mauled, Cory simply stood there, all froze-up and glassy-eyed, maybe 'cause o' the shock of being handled like a friggin' sex toy, or maybe 'cause of my fucked-up (but I'd-do-it-again-in-a-split-fuckin'-second) reaction to it. And then, to add insult to injury, Cindy Clarkson chose that very moment to mosey right on over to Cory and tell him in this loud and accusin' sorta voice that he'd surely got his "babysitter" into a world of trouble, probably even fired.
  So's Cory was freaked out, I was pissed off, and Brian was furious. And as it turned out Brian was real fuckin' furious. He called the lot of us into his office. When we all got there, Cory kinda stumbled over to a chair in the corner, I leaned up against the wall by the door, while Brian perched himself on the edge of his cluttered desk. It was like some kinda three-way face-off.
  Okay, so's I totally lost it again. "Christ, Cory! You told a coupla fuckin' losers to get their hands outta yer pants! That's what you're s'posed to do!"
  Then the fuckin' strangest thing happened; Cory just broke down. He dropped right down onto his knees on the floor of Brian's office, stuck his head in his hands, and by the way his shoulders shook it sorta looked like he mighta started cryin'. Shoot me now!
  Me and Brian just stood there, gawkin' down at Cory. The kid wasn't no drama queen; this was not his usual behavior.Once they got me offa the asshole, I took a look around for Cory.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I shook Jon's hand super hard, but when I stood before Brian, I paused a measure, 'cause Brian'd been as close to a father as I'd ever had. The man didn't hesitate, though. He reached out to me with both arms and yanked me right up against his skinny body for a real sturdy embrace. "You've come a long way from that punk-ass kid I hired way back when, and I gotta tell you, I'm mighty proud. We'll miss you here."
  If I didn't get the hell outta there, like ASAP, my eyes was gonna spring friggin' leaks, and I was gonna start wailin' like a hungry baby. So's I grabbed a holda Cory's waist and whisked him off to the truck, makin' sure that the kid got himself buckled up, all nice and safe. Then with a quick wave to them three sad-eyed men who stood there gawkin', I jogged around to the driver's side and slid in. And since long good-byes totally sucked, I looked over at Cory, sent the kid my sexiest wink, and put the pedal to the metal, screechin' as fast as I could outta the Downtown Pub's parkin' lot, layin' down a stripe o' rubber right next to that there dumpster where I'd met my baby so many years before.
  MIA KERICK is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don't ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
  Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.