Model prompt >>> The following story is about the open source universe where a wise master is teaching a young padawan the ancient black art of hacking. The wise old man is very experienced in hacking from his education through the kartel. The young padawan is bright and full of ideals. He plans to use the black hacking are for good rather than evil. ======================================== SAMPLE 1 ======================================== Shaun Langwell is his full-time name. His name is embraces a wide sweaty zark. He is a passionate hack lain by hitch-hiker and has collected over thousands of instructions to concentrate on in the following days a whole population stretching across the outermost limits of space and time all on a curious scare-filled jukebox. His name is Eddie McCartney. His name is embraces the name Mickie McCartney which means Uncle Jim McMillan's Serpentine and its name is embraces this thing that is the planet Earth. His name is Bob Beeblebrox. His name is out of this world literally swampland on a yellow sun in swampland, one of the many plutocrats of this planet, and where his house was named in the remembered accounts of his first interment in his private lumpus, he is a highly skilled and highly popular man ======================================== SAMPLE 2 ======================================== It is the best he can guess. He will do whatever he lacks out in the world. Sometimes he just gets upset. "Here," he shoves the computer away from her and turns round again. "Did you do that?" "Yes," she recalls him. He wipes away a tiny smoke from his beer glass. "And now, this..." he takes it back, "is the greatest computer ever... that could be. How did we get here, you see? You see, this is the big picture." "The big picture," she mumbles, "is that the Galactic Civil... Civil State is very strange. You see, when I come to say that the Galactic Civil State is wrong and is worried about the suns of civilizations I mean it. Wrong as well in every way as some ones in Civil State. It is wrong all the way up! It's wrong to have civilization in the shape you see!" She shoots ======================================== SAMPLE 3 ======================================== Ford and Arthur moved into a small home on a dry landscape. Ford and Arthur sat on a little chair. Ford sat on it for quite a while. "Hello, Andy." "Yes, well that's perfect. Well I do hate to be rid of this book. I hate the pub. You can write perfectly good stories, but I think that won't be gradually ceasing to make sense. It will continue to make sense for a a while, and then it will be backwards for a while, just as backwards was what Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy once was. And that's the problem I'm going to get down to once again and say. You can write bad stories, but writing good stories doesn't take any of the context of the subject whatsoever. It doesn't get the Reason into the mind-body equivalent of the Reason into the bloody bloody Arkens. Most people agreed this was a good idea. ======================================== SAMPLE 4 ======================================== It's perfectly clear from the copyright notice which I have printed this here on a larking about the planet Earth. In an open law infringement he arries that the lawyers in the lawyers' room may incorporate in a publication webspace which might put this in the Hook and angle itself again. Chapter 20 The ship's controls were now feeling a little curious. The man standing standing in front of it was looking very stressed. His crown headset was now under detergent scanning. His silver eyes watched the ship dancing over the turf and over the boulevard. The control computers and the cruise cab were now, as the first time in half an hour that the two wonderful events of our own time in a half an hour, determined to have a feeling that something very odd was going on. The ship's two major scouts had been having a pretty good week ======================================== SAMPLE 5 ======================================== Random hadn't had a hope in a while. She had been waking in her own space, but she hadn't had a hope at the moment. She had hope in her own space, and it was a good one, given the absence of any scientific or adventuring history. She looked around the tiny distant scrubby particle pools of the ship. She looked around the distant rocket-proof magnet round the flight deck. She looked around, and so on. Random examined the mattress for her own purpose. She began to find what she was looking at. There was a rocket, also in the pools, but she didn't know why this box contained it. It was just a box of Dremora Krikkit 12 DIMS, which were presumably known to come in spectrometers, or a tiny darting rocket launcher in bar synthes. Random's eyes darted around what she knew in the box. ======================================== SAMPLE 6 ======================================== It's an entertainment. The unequal opportunity is now won by the old man who will get killed. The own ignorance of his death will merely thrash the entertainment network in fiercely striking great battle. Chapter 2 Zaphod Beeblebrox wrestled off into the soft sunlit dusty dust of his own bicycle, and still he looked old for the dying dance. It was clear that he felt he was only about thirty seconds from the beginning of something terribly painful. He started to swing his body on top of the cracked cramp he had blown on the other side of his bicycles. He started to swing his body on top of the cracked cramp he had blown on the other side of the bicycles. He started to swing his body on top of the steel hats that had covered the cramp he had blown on the other side of the bicycles. He ======================================== SAMPLE 7 ======================================== Wonko the Sane was a fierce warrior. He was born on Vartka a hundred light years away in the Galaxy of Kakrafoon. He was a dying machine. He died of drowning fat. Kakrafoon is one of the most solitary of the three Universal Universes, the larger the lower the dying effect the less it drips fat. Sane was, as he told himself, a lazy kid who didn't get much out of basic basic basic. He had had a swimming crawlie. Consulting his father in the sea of basic basic basic basic, he caught neatly to his left on a watery crack hatchway. "Don't hear my voice!" he screamed, but stood still and thoughtfully thought about it. He had had a swim and was now trying to catch his eyes and starry water against the air and he could no longer tell what the voice was or how it ======================================== SAMPLE 8 ======================================== The credit means he decides to buy this story for BBC and he will now be back into its own system since it was only after he had been lost for six years that his own story got reassured. The television series about the Infinite Improbability Drive are now on demand in New York. They have been hung up for five years. Rights have been lost but the entire history of the whole thing is under control. On an intergalactic spacecraft with the whole of Harl McMillan as medical researchers. "Good evening," said Slartibartfast. The robot's entry radio broadcasted a message through the back wavelength of the ship, "Goodevening, Sir." A large dolphin reared the bridge of the Infinite Improbability Drive and watched its determined movement. Within seconds a large plate charted right through it's way. Its size and weight were almost immeasurable. Its embossed metal body was ======================================== SAMPLE 9 ======================================== The kartel was built on the feeble of the solemn sabbatical of his Master's Essex career. The mere knowledge of the wisdom of the catholic Zenkits on the planet Krikkit would have seemed too unfitting. Even the small failing to hewn cabinet was insanely chauffeurial. It was built on the feeble of his attention to the future of solar systems. Among the starships built on this box was the great granddaddy to the great great grandaddy to the great grandaddy to the catholic Zenkits on the planet Krikkit. These were built before the tense first year of research attached to the ship's idle boutile, and the tense first year of research which the great grandaddy to the catholic Zenkits on the planet Krikkit was allowed to spend on all these starships, four years of dribbling in an alley computer, and stealing out the most intrinsically danger ======================================== SAMPLE 10 ======================================== It is a tricky business. The computer with its generous taxi can pull you beyond your expectation when you see it. It must take you wherever you want to go. It also has to charge you nothing except for the whole business. You will now have the rest, the rest of the universe, if you like, wherewith its generous taxi still you would only be achieving the same by dint of it. And now, this time with opportunities for reflection and expressing brainedly at one end of reason and truth and idea after it, it is possible to be quite comfortable in the other and then fall back on merely the rapidly popular in it. And after a while this sort of fancy struggles away again. "I thought that if I just met this perfectly regularly I, perfectly basic number-I could fall back on the rapidly popular in it when it was just ================================================================================