Ghost Writer
GPT-2 rewrites ‘Diplomacy Is For Mugs’.
Queen Victoria resumed the conversation with the bottle she’d lifted from the diner. The sherry might taste of crap but it at least wasn’t a good judge of character. Bad deeds need an easy audience.
The Glock had been taken from the arm of a dead man, the pistol had been dropped from a plane in the middle of nowhere, and even the bottle was covered in the fingerprints of criminals. No one needed a bottle to tell them they were going down.
“Are you the one who just came to tell me about how you were going to steal a gun?”
The voice was familiar, but it didn’t sound familiar at the same time. She nodded. “I’m the one who just told you about the other things I have planned. I’m going to kill your family and then go back to my hotel.”
“You aren’t going to kill my family?”
“No.” She held the bottle to her lips