conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a story about Albert, Anna, Clinch with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this story could be 'Seth MacFarlane's a Million Ways to Die in the West'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Seth MacFarlane's a Million Ways to Die in the West
  Albert Stark was a coward. Not a quivering, jittery, weak-kneed sort of a coward, but the kind who viewed his cowardice as an act of sensibility: a coward in the name of pragmatism. To Albert, his cowardice functioned as a shield that existed to service the very sensible goal of self-preservation. In the West, brave men got killed. Cowards stayed alive.
  One needed only to glance at the front page of any local newspaper to see the truth in such a point of view:
  Yes, it seemed to Albert that fear was a very useful thing for a man living in the southern Arizona territory.
  So on this blistering hot day he was quite content to once again allow cowardice to insulate him from an early demise.
  He stood at the center of the thoroughfare, gun belt at the ready—or so it appeared. The townsfolk of Old Stump lined the street, eager as ever to witness that most electrifying of all frontier spectacles: the showdown. But at the moment, Albert stood alone. His opponent was nowhere to be seen, and high noon had officially come and gone. No one spoke, save for the occasional fluttering murmurs of slightly confused anticipation from the onlookers. Dirt farmers watched patiently. Women fanned themselves, desperately attempting to force a few little bursts of air between their numerous layers of clothing. Well-to-do gentlemen checked their pocket watches and smoked the sort of fine cigars one can only truly enjoy outdoors in 112-degree weather. Children fidgeted and played idly with their favorite toys, such as apple cores, bits of string, and deceased mice. Dogs lay panting on the ground, no doubt wondering how the fuck any human being could live a non-suicidal existence in such an awful, depressing place.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me three more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Foy put an arm around Louise's slender waist. "Your ex-boyfriend doesn't seem to have a sense of humor," he said. "I can see why you dumped him."
  Albert had never been timid about expressing feelings of displeasure, but he did have a relatively long fuse. Foy had lit that fuse the first day Albert saw him walk out of the moustachery locked arm in arm with Louise. The pompous bastard had stolen the one true love of Albert's life, and the fuse had been growing shorter day by day since then.
  Albert lurched forward, putting himself two inches from Foy's face. "You wanna back up that attitude, asshole?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "You wanna back up that attitude, asshole?". "Your ex-boyfriend doesn't seem to have a sense of humor," he said. "I can see why you dumped him."
  Albert had never been timid about expressing feelings of displeasure, but he did have a relatively long fuse. Foy had lit that fuse the first day Albert saw him walk out of the moustachery locked arm in arm with Louise. The pompous bastard had stolen the one true love of Albert's life, and the fuse had been growing shorter day by day since then.
  Albert lurched forward, putting himself two inches from Foy's face.Foy put an arm around Louise's slender waist.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Anna ran to Albert and threw her arms around him, raining kisses upon him with all the passion of a parched castaway suddenly being given water. His lips melted into hers for a full minute before she pulled away, gazing at him with love, pride, and profound relief.
  They kissed again. When they parted this time, Albert became aware that he was being observed. He turned to look behind him.
  A very short time ago, Albert would have shot himself in the knee just to hear her speak those words. And now he felt nothing. It was not until that moment that he knew he was truly free. Free from her emotional grasp. Free to pursue happiness with someone who was ready to love him for the rest of his life.
  Anna turned to him with electrified eyes as something new occurred to her. "Y'know... you shot Clinch Leatherwood. The deadliest gunman on the frontier. There's probably gonna be reward money."
  And that was how, in the warm Arizona summer of 1882, Albert and Anna Stark, newly wed in the little town of Old Stump, came to embrace beside his small cabin, in the center of a great flock of sheep five thousand strong. And through the gift of a new, mint-bright outlook fueled by a woman's love, Albert Stark found that he was happy to live in the West.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Anna ran to Albert and threw her arms around him, raining kisses upon him with all the passion of a parched castaway suddenly being given water. His lips melted into hers for a full minute before she pulled away, gazing at him with love, pride, and profound relief.
  They kissed again. When they parted this time, Albert became aware that he was being observed. He turned to look behind him.
  A very short time ago, Albert would have shot himself in the knee just to hear her speak those words. And now he felt nothing. It was not until that moment that he knew he was truly free. Free from her emotional grasp. Free to pursue happiness with someone who was ready to love him for the rest of his life.
  Anna turned to him with electrified eyes as something new occurred to her. "Y'know... you shot Clinch Leatherwood. The deadliest gunman on the frontier. There's probably gonna be reward money."
  And that was how, in the warm Arizona summer of 1882, Albert and Anna Stark, newly wed in the little town of Old Stump, came to embrace beside his small cabin, in the center of a great flock of sheep five thousand strong.