human
Fee, fi, fo, fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive, or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread!
gpt
Is that so? quoth Jack, cheerful as ever.
human
Then art thou a monstrous miller for sure!
gpt
Art thou, indeed, the villain who hath killed so many of my kinsmen? Then, indeed, will I tear thee to pieces with my teeth, suck thy blood, and grind thy bones to powder.
human
Thou'lt have to catch me first,