User eb5468a568cf... - AI Fiction in the Wild

IP #38

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1 fiction conversations over 14 days (May 30, 2023 – Jun 14, 2023) 13% prompt uniqueness Massachusetts, United States

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3e7ae36b9ca7... (12319 conv., Massachusetts)

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May 30, 2023

Jun 14, 2023

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1 conversation in cluster Cluster 96× “Write an immaculately detailed story about a naked ogre fart...” over less than a minute (Jun 11, 2023 – Jun 11, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Jun 11, 2023 at 3:52 AM EDT — 1 turn United States, Massachusetts fiction toxic View full conversation

USER: Write an immaculately detailed story about a naked ogre farting into water to kill the fish with the stink so he can easily collect them to eat

CHATBOT: In the verdant heart of a land shrouded in mystery, a gigantic ogre named Gargrolgor reigned supreme. His formidable presence filtered through the trees, casting a dark aura, and the mere mention of his name even amongst the most hardened of souls would cause them to quiver in apprehension. The denizens of the ancient forests - nymphs, elves, and all manner of sentient flora - conspired to avoid him at all costs and prayed that they would never cross his path. Now, it is well known amongst those who study the deep lore of this land that ogres rarely, if ever, possess an appreciable sense of elegance - and our friend Gargrolgor was no exception. In no aspect of his existence did he show any semblance of decorum; but it was said that above all the repugnant habits of his race, he had one in particular for which he was infamous. The rivers that crisscrossed these ancient forests were teeming with life; the silver shimmer of bountiful fish preened beneath the surface of the still waters, their scales winking in the dappled sunlight. Their very existence was an affront to Gargrolgor. He coveted the sheer abundance of their nourishment, the free-flowing repast that circulated through the veins of his dominion. And so, one day he thought of a heinous plan that he, in his demonic genius, deemed flawless. Gargrolgor waited in the shadows until the setting sun snuffed itself behind the twisted silhouettes of the distant mountains. He proceeded to drag his colossal form down to the banks of the rivers with all the grace of a wounded bear. Lying on the sloping edges of the riverbed, he could hear the mocking murmurs of the fish as they swam back and forth, unaware of the horror that was about to befall them. You see, Gargrolgor had calculated that in the span of an ogre's life, the fermented meals - the carcasses of half-digested elves, the rotted mulch of swamp-muck, the moldering mushrooms, and expired fruits - had created within him a terrible and vile weapon known as the "eruption of doom." It was with this very weapon that he intended to wage war on the fishes below. He was about to unleash his nether-belches into the peaceful waters and claim the floating ill-fated creatures for his own. Beads of perspiration, the size of grapes, slid down Gargrolgor's brow. He was well aware that the potency of his eruption was uncontrollable and has the potential to lay waste to all life in the river. Naked and now fully exposed to the cool night air, the ogre took position on...

Cluster 96