conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know a description for a book titled Faust Among Equals about Orbit with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: 1st Orbit paperback vg+ paperback vg+ In stock shipped from our UK warehouse
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first four paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Faust Among Equals
  The senior clerk grimaced. 'Worse than that, son,' he grunted. 'That's all the Lucky George stuff they've just asked for. If they spot that and cross-reference to the Visitor's Book, the sods'll realise he's flitted and then where'll we be?'
  His assistant glanced round. From each of the dingy cells leading off the corridor came the muffled souls in various ingenious but cost-effective permutations of everlasting torment. 'Son,' he muttered, 'don't you believe it. That's just the stuff they give the customers.'
  The third dustbin contained the end of a stale loaf, a sardine tin with a little grimy oil left in it, a rotten tomato and the carcasses of two smoked mackerel. Lundqvist sighed with relief and made himself a sandwich. The neighbourhood alley-cat gave him a poisonous look, but he ignored it.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about sniffed.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Faust Among Equals
  The senior clerk grimaced. 'Worse than that, son,' he grunted. 'That's all the Lucky George stuff they've just asked for. If they spot that and cross-reference to the Visitor's Book, the sods'll realise he's flitted and then where'll we be?'
  His assistant glanced round. From each of the dingy cells leading off the corridor came the muffled souls in various ingenious but cost-effective permutations of everlasting torment. 
  His superior sniffed. 'Son,' he muttered, 'don't you believe it. That's just the stuff they give the customers. '
  The third dustbin contained the end of a stale loaf, a sardine tin with a little grimy oil left in it, a rotten tomato and the carcasses of two smoked mackerel. Lundqvist sighed with relief and made himself a sandwich. The neighbourhood alley-cat gave him a poisonous look, but he ignored it.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Captain shrugged and repositioned the drill bit in the hole. 'No reason,' he said. 'It just seems too, well, normal to me. Useful, too.'
  The drill made contact, and there was a long interval of screeching metal, spine-jarring vibrations and Keith whistling (the latter audible despite the Captain jamming the drill on to full speed). Then something gave way, and before the Captain could call out 'I think we're through, lads', the water around them started to seethe and boil. Like the emptying of God's bath, it gurgled, whirlpooled and sucked. The drill, the three engineers and forty thousand tons of yucky black goo were swept up and swallowed whole.
  The last two thoughts to pass through the Captain's mind, before the whirlpool got him and catapulted him back into the whole tedious rigmarole of temporary death and routine reincarnation, were:
  Billions of gallons of the stuff, enough to fill all the swimming pools in Beverley Hills, roaring and burping down a molybdenum steel drain towards the centre of the earth.
  Ronnie Bosch was proud of that drain. Not because it was a miracle of engineering (walls only ninety thou. thick, but proofed to twenty-six tons per square inch; machined from solid out of one of the pillars used for thousands of years to support the sky until they discovered it stayed up there perfectly happily of its own accord); more because he'd managed to get it made and installed in twelve hours flat, and nobody had even troubled to ask him what he wanted it for. When you've been used to having to sign four pink chits and a green requisition every time you want your pencil sharpened, it comes as a bit of a shock.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: When you've been used to having to sign four pink chits and a green requisition every time you want your pencil sharpened, it comes as a bit of a shock.. thick, but proofed to twenty-six tons per square inch; machined from solid out of one of the pillars used for thousands of years to support the sky until they discovered it stayed up there perfectly happily of its own accord); more because he'd managed to get it made and installed in twelve hours flat, and nobody had even troubled to ask him what he wanted it for. Not because it was a miracle of engineering (walls only ninety thou.
  Ronnie Bosch was proud of that drain.
  The last two thoughts to pass through the Captain's mind, before the whirlpool got him and catapulted him back into the whole tedious rigmarole of temporary death and routine reincarnation, were:
  Billions of gallons of the stuff, enough to fill all the swimming pools in Beverley Hills, roaring and burping down a molybdenum steel drain towards the centre of the earth. The drill, the three engineers and forty thousand tons of yucky black goo were swept up and swallowed whole. Like the emptying of God's bath, it gurgled, whirlpooled and sucked. Then something gave way, and before the Captain could call out 'I think we're through, lads', the water around them started to seethe and boil.'
  The drill made contact, and there was a long interval of screeching metal, spine-jarring vibrations and Keith whistling (the latter audible despite the Captain jamming the drill on to full speed). Useful, too. 'It just seems too, well, normal to me. 'No reason,' he said.The Captain shrugged and repositioned the drill bit in the hole
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: His colleague looked up, hurriedly wiping his face with his sleeve. 'You can't be serious,' he gasped.
  The Marketing Director shrugged. 'Okay,' he said, 'integrity counts for something in this game, but we've got shareholders to consider. And what it all boils down to in the final analysis is bums on seats.'
  George looked down. Under his feet, still yellow bricks, although the procession had now diminished down to two, plus a pair of seagulls circling high overhead.
  Helen snuggled closer. 'Not really, I suppose,' she replied. 'Just so long as when we get there, there's going to be fitted carpets.'
  The sun chose that moment to glint on Helen's hair, as golden as ripe corn; or, as George couldn't help thinking, more a sort of light honey with just a soupçon of goldy fawn.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: His colleague looked up, hurriedly wiping his face with his sleeve. 'You can't be serious,' he gasped.
  The Marketing Director shrugged. 'Okay,' he said, 'integrity counts for something in this game, but we've got shareholders to consider. And what it all boils down to in the final analysis is bums on seats.'
  George looked down. Under his feet, still yellow bricks, although the procession had now diminished down to two, plus a pair of seagulls circling high overhead.
  Helen snuggled closer. 'Not really, I suppose,' she replied. 'Just so long as when we get there, there's going to be fitted carpets.