conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for a book with the title 'The Road to Mars'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Road to Mars
  Rogers looked wistfully at the malt whiskey list and then ordered a couple of sodas. She took the order and left. Rogers glanced at some notes in his palm file, then pressed a button. REQUEST PROGRAM NOW came up on the screen in their booth.
  Lewis escorted Tay to Bethany's room. It was high up on the two hundredth floor of the Northwest Wing.
  Inside was tiny. Three small rooms, bedroom, bathroom, and a lounge which doubled as a kitchen. He glanced around at the impersonal hotel decor.
  Sadly the child died. Brenda thought attending the funeral would be too downbeat. "It conveys the wrong sort of message," she said. She did, however, send the family free passes for the show.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He was young. He was frightened. He could feel his heart beating so loud in his ears. Had he done good? Had he fucked up? He was hurrying through the cloisters. A short, pale-faced man in a dark hat and an old overcoat came towards him.
  She could hardly believe it. She could see the panic in their eyes. They were fussing and screaming, shoving and pointing all around her. The relentless cameras moved in on her.
  Within seconds the medics arrived. They must have been around the corner. Photographers pushed them back and fought each other to take photographs of the fallen woman in her bloodstained dress. This unseemly melee was finally resolved by the Paramedic Bodyslogs, who shoved aside the lenses of the paparazzi and carried her off bodily.
  But she could no longer hear them. Only see them flashing, popping, and mouthing shouts at her as she was carried away towards the vehicles with the flashing lights.
  He followed the young cop. Under the pillars, a reproduction of porticoed Paris, a short flight of steps led down.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Bravely, smiled.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He was young. He was frightened. He could feel his heart beating so loud in his ears. Had he done good? Had he fucked up? He was hurrying through the cloisters. A short, pale-faced man in a dark hat and an old overcoat came towards him. 
  She could hardly believe it. She could see the panic in their eyes. They were fussing and screaming, shoving and pointing all around her. The relentless cameras moved in on her. Bravely she smiled. 
  Within seconds the medics arrived. They must have been around the corner. Photographers pushed them back and fought each other to take photographs of the fallen woman in her bloodstained dress. This unseemly melee was finally resolved by the Paramedic Bodyslogs, who shoved aside the lenses of the paparazzi and carried her off bodily. 
  But she could no longer hear them. Only see them flashing, popping, and mouthing shouts at her as she was carried away towards the vehicles with the flashing lights. 
  He followed the young cop. Under the pillars, a reproduction of porticoed Paris, a short flight of steps led down.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It's life that's the puzzle. Life is the weirdness. Life is the unnecessary part of the equation. Given time, the physical Universe becomes biological and grows intelligence. Why?
  Katy was at the gala, looking glamorous in a strapless frock. She had moved in with Alex. He was nuts about her. They were talking about kids. He proposed to her in the lobby of the Sangster Club. She said she'd think about it. His face fell. Ten seconds later she said yes.
  It was a tough crowd. A tux crowd. Glittering jewels and polished faces. Carlton was coolly confident. Backstage it was Alex and Lewis who were nervous, like parents at a school play. They were in the way, redundant, pacing around offering useless bits of advice.
  Lewis gave him a slap on the back. Tay handed him a little good-luck drawing she had made, then they all passed through the black velvet curtain to take their places.
  Could he do it? Was comedy accessible to computers? Was artificial intelligence finally ready to be funny?