Shake My Heart, Ford Falcon

There was something he liked about those Falcon. He'd never liked anything before

PROMPT: throw under the bus.

The next time he woke up, he was sitting in the front seat of a blue Ford Falcon, a dented yellow metal Falcon, a fake-looking thing you could buy in the North. The driver had told him to stop, but he hadn’t noticed, and now he was going to turn around and go back to the front, and then back again, and then back to the driver’s seat, and everything would just start all over again.

There was something he liked about those Falcon. He’d never liked anything before. It was a thing he’d discovered when he got a job as a bouncer in a bar on Franklin Street. He’d been in that job for three or four months, but then a strange thing happened.

One night, he and the driver came into a bar called the Regal. It was empty. There was a bar on the other side of the bar, and he’d been in there since the bar closed, and now he was there, sitting in the bar, drinking some drinks, and he thought he was going to die. He was only nineteen, and he didn’t have any money. The man at the bar said he would give him some money, and he got up and went into the bar, which was just a kind of middle-class bar with a few people who worked there. He sat down and had a gin and tonic and some good old-time music. The music was very good, but he was listening to the music very carefully, and the man was singing “Don’t Let Me Be Your Man” and the words to “Shake My Heart.”

It was a very complicated song, and the song kept coming over him, and he’d gotten so engrossed in his listening to it, he forgot to notice that he was driving through Columbus. It was a real serious mistake, but he had no idea what he’d done wrong, so he hadn’t been really careful. He was driving slowly, at first, then very fast, then very fast, then very fast again, over and over again. He felt that he had to do something, so he did it, and he went over to the other side of the road and stopped the car. The driver said he was sorry, but the car was going a very fast bumpy road, and he’d better get used to it.

[END TRANSMISSION]

Editor’s Notes

Written by AI, using my multi-temp script, and using my postmodern fiction model, which is a fine-tuning of gpt-2 774M at around 300,000 iterations currently. Chosen from among the other recently generated stories by me, a human.

Prompt

“throw under the bus”

Came from one of these places, which the script chose at random from a list of phrases:

Edits

No edits needed :)

Title

Title was human-derived by me from the generated text

Plagiarism Checked

Plagiarism checked with Plagiarism-Basic against the dataset, looking for 10-word-length matches

GPT-2 Settings

{
  "return_as_list": true,
  "length": 500,
  "top_k": 500,
  "top_p": 0.9,
  "truncate": "<|endoftext|>",
  "nsamples": 1,
  "run_name": "model-postmodern-774M-run1",
  "prefix": "throw under the bus",
  "temperature": 0.8500000000000001
}