Seekordne jutujahi jutuke on otse elust maha kirjutatud.
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Maailmaparandaja vaatas oma tegemata tööde nimekirja ja otsustas raske südamega, et järgmise jutujahi peab ta vahele jätma. Ei ole midagi teha, inimvõimetel on lõppude-lõpuks piirid ja ööpäevas on ainult 24 tundi. Kuidas peaks ma jõudma 8 tundi magada, 8 tundi palgatööd teha, pakkuda taksoteenust, koristada, kokata, lapsi kasida ja kasvatada, täita oma teetassi ja siis veel kirjanikku mängida. Eriti kui selleks viimaseks mingit annet pole ja jutukesed tuleb pastakast välja pigistada kui... kui... kui millestki, mida on väga raske pigistada. Ehk siis kuidagi ei kipu ajast välja tulema.
Aga kas peabki kõike ise tegema? Me elame ju ometigi tehnoloogiaajastul. Las tehisintellekt võtab üle!
Mõeldud tehtud. Maailmaparandaja toksis interneedumisse kiired otsingusõnad ja juba oligi leidnud äärmiselt usaldusväärse (või siis mitte) jutukirjutaja. "Kirjuta minu eest jutt!" klõbistas Maailmaparandaja kärmelt. "Jah, täitsa vabal teemal! Näita, mida sa oskad! Anna mulle meistriteos!"
Enter.
Ekraanile ilmus järgmine jutuke:
Two Delightful Uncles Sleeping to the Beat
A Short Story
by https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/
Reginald Bishop looked at the crumpled record in his hands and felt concerned.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his quiet surroundings. He had always loved quiet Liverpool with its ashamed, annoyed arches. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel concerned.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Sally Smart. Sally was a violent lawyer with beautiful ankles and pointy fingers.
Reginald gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a malicious, understanding, wine drinker with wobbly ankles and hairy fingers. His friends saw him as a petite, powerful painter. Once, he had even helped a horrible toddler cross the road.
But not even a malicious person who had once helped a horrible toddler cross the road, was prepared for what Sally had in store today.
The moon shone like jogging tortoises, making Reginald puzzled.
As Reginald stepped outside and Sally came closer, he could see the rough smile on her face.
Sally gazed with the affection of 7943 stable knowing koalas. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want love."
Reginald looked back, even more puzzled and still fingering the crumpled record. "Sally, yabba Dabba Doo," he replied.
They looked at each other with cross feelings, like two gleaming, gloopy goldfish sleeping at a very charming wake, which had trance music playing in the background and two delightful uncles sleeping to the beat.
Reginald regarded Sally's beautiful ankles and pointy fingers. "I feel the same way!" revealed Reginald with a delighted grin.
Sally looked sneezy, her emotions blushing like a kindhearted, kaleidoscopic knife.
Then Sally came inside for a nice glass of wine.
THE ENDMaailmaparandaja jõllitas õudusega ekraani nagu heasüdamlik kaleidoskoopiline nuga.