A Simulated Collaboration: Writing a Short Story with the Bot

This post reports on an experiment involving me and the bot. As I’m sure you’ve been doing since it was impossible to avoid the Mugshot-o-Rama last week, I’ve been trying to imagine what Donald Trump must have been feeling as he traveled to and from Fulton County Jail to get a mugshot taken and fingerprinted.

To serve a double purpose, I decided to work with the bot and write a piece of fiction narrating what it might have been like for a different President under a different set of charges to go to Fulton County. My original plan was to test the bot and find out whether it can write interior monologues. It can’t—at least using my prompts in this circumstance it was ineffective.

Also, after learning about the Collaborative Intelligence initiative in Australia, I decided to try the bot again as a simulated author of fiction. So far its output has been ineffective. You have here the collaborative output in the form of a short story. I’m pretty sure you’ll see the human interventions. I’d say the proportion of words bot vs human in 80/20.

After the story you’ll find a portion of the conversation with the bot from which its output was literally cut and pasted. If I were trying to pass this off as my own work, I would be flatly a plagiarist. This is mostly bot output. Other matters like contributions to the output from my prompts, the commands which led to the output, are beyond me at this point. I know this: I could not copyright this story. In April, 2023, the Copyright Office ruled that only human content can be registered. The human parts of this passage could be registered.

I’m curious to hear from you.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia

Inside the sleek black car, the atmosphere was laden with tension. President Roberts peered out the tinted window, his gaze fixed on the passing city lights. What a disaster, he thought. “The apple of Putin’s eye,” he laughed to himself.

He couldn't help but wonder how this arrest could impact his re-election campaign. So far so good. Would his loyal supporters question his fake credibility, the façade that had shielded him since high school? They dug in their heels for him with every new indictment. Would the opposition seize this very real opportunity to finally expose his selfish heart?

No one knew better than he how he had shamelessly tried to exploit his position for personal gain throughout his presidency, leaving a trail of deceit and scandal in his wake. Words to that effect would never pass through his lips, never. It was not in him to betray himself.

Once adorned with power and prestige, President William Roberts now found himself on the cusp of passing through the Gates of Hell, the somber halls of Fulton County Jail. It was a fictional August day in 2023, but the weight of reality hung heavily on his shoulders. The shackles of scandal and deception had finally caught up with him, transforming the once-respected Commander-in-Chief into a potential inmate.

“You must be exhausted, sir. Here, have some water,” his body man said, handing him a chilled plastic bottle. The motorcade drew closer to the prison.

“Do you have a Diet Pepsi?”

Xxx

As President Roberts stepped into the sterile processing area, harsh fluorescent lights flickered above, casting an eerie glow on the dingy walls and cracked linoleum. A sense of surrealism enveloped him, as if he were watching the scene unfold in a movie, he an actor rather than being an active participant. A sour stench permeated the air. A putrid dark scum adorned the wall where a drinking fountain leaked.

“I wouldn’t drink from that fountain, sir,” said the secret service agent.

“Get him out of here,” the former President said to his body man. “What a smart ass.”

“I’ll get him later, sir,” the body man said. “He’ll pay a price for his sick humor.”

Xxx

A stern-faced correctional officer motioned him towards a small booth, enclosing him within a glass partition. On the other side, an officer prepared to capture his mugshot. President Roberts' heart raced as he tried to remain stoic but defiant, aware that his expression would be captured for the world to see. The moment was near. He had rehearsed a grimace in front of a mirror until his jaw muscles ached.

With a practiced detachment, the officer adjusted the height of the chair before President Roberts and signaled for him to be seated. The president's hands trembled slightly as they rested upon the table before him, his fingers interlaced. As the camera shutter clicked, preserving this ignoble moment in history, the president's face contorted with a mixture of despair, defiance, and traces of lingering pride.

“What a turn of events, Mr. President," the officer remarked, his voice laced with a mix of caution and curiosity. "Never thought I’d see the day when the leader of the free world would find himself in this predicament."

President Roberts locked eyes with the officer, and an unexpected spark of defiance flashed in his gaze. "No one is invincible," he retorted, a fervent determination bubbling to the surface. "I’ve done nothing wrong but make a lot of money.  I will not let this define me. I am stronger than that."

The officer's skeptical expression softened momentarily, as if he sensed the internal transformation taking place before him. This man in front of him who had sat in the Oval Office had admitted invincibility. Sitting before a policeman’s camera made it real for the President.

"Well, Mr. President, good luck," he finally murmured, his voice carrying a glimmer of admiration.

“Vote for me in the primary and in the general election,” he said. “I walk the blue line.”

Xxx

His mugshot now taken, President Roberts was led to a nearby table where another officer prepared to fingerprint him. The scrutiny intensified, as each finger was meticulously pressed onto an ink pad, then rolled onto the pristine paper. The president felt a wave of vulnerability wash over him as he saw his distinctive fingerprints, unique symbols of his individuality, transferred onto the card. For a fleeting moment he felt the ghost of his long dead father, scolding him not for his crimes, but for getting caught with his hands in the cookie jar. He didn’t even like cookies. It was a stark reminder that even the most powerful among us are not immune to the consequences of their actions.

Hours turned into an eternity as President Roberts navigated the labyrinth of the legal system. There were no special privileges for former presidents here, no red carpet to soften his footsteps, to emphasize his imperial qualities. The inevitable end to this chapter of his life crept closer, and as he sat in a small holding cell awaiting the final steps, its door left open in deference to his majesty, he couldn't help but reflect upon the weight of his greed and the burden he had placed upon the nation he once led. But then he quickly suppressed the thought.

Finally, the time came for President Roberts to be taken from his confinement. A phalanx of armed officers escorted him through the jail's secure corridors, their presence symbolizing both protection and containment. Emerging into the daylight, President Roberts laid eyes upon his motorcade, the familiar sight contrasting sharply with his current reality. He could almost grasp the fleeting semblance of power that it represented, a distant memory reminding him of what once was. It inspired him to try to get it again. He would make them pay, by God. He had saved the economy and almost closed the southern border.

As President Roberts climbed into the backseat of the bulletproof vehicle, the heavy door closed behind him, momentarily muffling the sounds of the outside world. He gazed out the tinted windows, the scenes of Georgia passing by in a blur, as his thoughts turned towards the long road ahead.

Xxx

With each passing mile, President Roberts found strength in the knowledge that his journey was far from over, and that perhaps, in time, he could begin to heal the wounds the bastards had inflicted upon himself, their President. And for what? For making more money, for doing what every red blooded American tries to do from the cradle to the grave.

“Sir, we're here to support you all the way. You've touched so many lives, and the little people believe in your vision,” his body man said.

“Oh, how thoughtful of you,” the ex-President said. “And I believe in the little people. Hey, Frank, if you see an off-ramp with a MacDonalds, pull over. I’m hungry.”

*****

Here are relevant portions of the conversation with the bot.

- robot: Hello, How can I assist you?

 - user: What is the qualifying criterion for getting a public defender

 - robot: The qualifying criterion for getting a public defender may vary depending on the jurisdiction and the specific circumstances of the case. In general, eligibility for a public defender is based on an individual's financial situation. Typically, individuals who cannot afford to hire their own private attorney may qualify for a public defender. Eligibility for a public defender is often determined by factors such as income, assets, and expenses. It is recommended to consult with the relevant legal authorities or organizations in your specific jurisdiction for accurate and up-to-date information on the qualifying criteria for obtaining a public defender.

 - user: What is a mugshot

 - robot: A mugshot is a photograph of a person's face and sometimes their upper body taken by law enforcement agencies, typically after they have been arrested. Mugshots are commonly used for identification purposes and are often stored in police databases.

 - user: Have any US presidents had a mugshot taken

 - robot: As an AI, I am not able to access real-time information, but as of my last update in 2021, no US presidents have had a mugshot taken while serving as president.

 - user: Write a short story with a President as a main character. The story should begin as this president enters the a Fulton County Jail in a fictional August, 2023. It should end when he leaves in his motorcade. Include specific details of the mugshot being taken and the fingerprints

 - robot: Once adorned with power and prestige, President William Roberts now found himself walking through the somber halls of Fulton County Jail. It was a fictional August day in 2023, but the weight of reality hung heavily on his shoulders. The shackles of scandal and deception had finally caught up with him, transforming the once-respected Commander-in-Chief into an inmate.

As President Roberts stepped into the sterile processing area, the harsh fluorescent lights flickered above, casting an eerie glow on the surroundings. A sense of surrealism enveloped him, as if he were watching the scene unfold in a movie rather than being an active participant.

A stern-faced correctional officer motioned him towards a small booth, enclosing him within a glass partition. On the other side, an officer prepared to capture his mugshot. President Roberts' heart raced as he tried to remain stoic, aware that every movement and expression would be captured for the world to see.

With a practiced detachment, the officer adjusted the height of the chair before President Roberts and signaled for him to be seated. The president's hands trembled slightly as they rested upon the table before him, his fingers interlaced. As the camera shutter clicked, preserving this ignoble moment in history, the president's face contorted with a mixture of despair, defiance, and traces of lingering pride.

His mugshot now taken, President Roberts was led to a nearby table where another officer prepared to fingerprint him. The scrutiny intensified, as each finger was meticulously pressed onto an ink pad, then rolled onto the pristine paper. The president felt a hint of vulnerability wash over him as he saw his distinctive fingerprints, symbols of his individuality, transferred onto the card. It was a stark reminder that even the most powerful among us are not immune to the consequences of their actions.

Hours turned into an eternity as President Roberts navigated the labyrinthine processes of the legal system. There were no special privileges for former presidents here, no red carpet to soften his landing. The inevitable end to this chapter of his life crept closer, and as he sat in a small holding cell awaiting the final steps, he couldn't help but reflect upon the weight of his mistakes and the burden he had placed upon the nation he once led.

Finally, the time came for President Roberts to be taken from his confinement. A phalanx of armed officers escorted him through the jail's secure corridors, their presence symbolizing both protection and containment. Emerging into the daylight, President Roberts laid eyes upon his motorcade, the familiar sight contrasting sharply with his current reality. He could almost grasp the fleeting semblance of power that it represented, a distant memory reminding him of what once was.

As President Roberts climbed into the backseat of the bulletproof vehicle, the heavy door closed behind him, momentarily muffling the sounds of the outside world. He gazed out the tinted windows, the scenes of Georgia passing by in a blur, as his thoughts turned towards the long road ahead.

No longer a president, he carried with him the stains of his actions, a legacy tarnished by betrayal and corruption. But he also carried the glimmer of hope, a belief in redemption and the possibility of rebuilding a life, irrespective of past mistakes. With each passing mile, President Roberts found strength in the knowledge that his journey was far from over, and that perhaps, in time, he could begin to heal the wounds inflicted upon himself and the nation he once served.

 - user: President Roberts is an interesting character. I’m asking for a rewrite with some specific changes.

1. The time of day should be early evening at arrival, darkness with no stars at leaving. Include descriptions of the travel to and from the jail using scenes from inside the car, including some dialogue.

2. Write in some interior monologues revealing what the President is thinking and feeling when the mugshot is taken. Add some dialogue with the officer. The adjustment of the chair, the shutter clicking, these are nice images, good verisimilitude. Do more of that.

3. This President is running for re-election and is very popular among Conservatives. Use this parameter as a guide and do some dramatic foreshadowing of a build inside him from resignation to defiance.

 - robot: As the early evening cast a shadow over the city, darkness engulfed the surroundings like a shroud, blotting out the stars from the velvety night sky. President Roberts, an interesting character in his own right, found himself in a peculiar situation, his popularity among Conservatives at stake. Anticipation gnawed at him as he prepared to depart for the jail, his mind racing with a myriad of thoughts.

Inside the sleek black car, the atmosphere was laden with tension. President Roberts peered out the tinted window, his gaze fixed on the passing city lights. He couldn't help but wonder how this arrest could impact his re-election campaign. Would his loyal supporters question his credibility? Would the opposition seize this opportunity to undermine his authority?

As the car made its way through the streets, the President's thoughts grew louder, grappling with the idea of resignation. He pondered whether it would be better to accept defeat gracefully or fight tooth and nail to maintain his reputation. His initial self-doubt began to morph into a simmering defiance, a fire ignited deep within.

Upon arrival at the jail, the President stepped out of the car, his confident demeanor contrasting with the uncertain swirl of emotions within. The starkness of the setting and the cold, sterile air added an uncomfortable weight to the situation.

Entering the booking room where the mugshot would be taken, President Roberts was met by an officer with an expression of stern professionalism. As the camera clicked and the flash filled the room, the President's mind raced once again.

The adjustment of the chair, the click of the shutter—these small details emphasized the gravity of the moment. Thoughts raced through his mind - the people who believed in him, the decisions he had taken that led him to this point, and most importantly, the potential consequences.

"What a turn of events, Mr. President," the officer remarked, his voice laced with a mix of caution and curiosity. "Never thought I’d see the day when the leader of the Conservatives would find himself in this predicament."

President Roberts locked eyes with the officer, and an unexpected spark of defiance flashed in his gaze. "No one is invincible," he retorted, a fervent determination bubbling to the surface. "But I will not let this define me. I am stronger than that."

The officer's skeptical expression softened momentarily, as if he sensed the internal transformation taking place before him. "Well, Mr. President, good luck," he finally murmured, his voice carrying a glimmer of admiration.

With that, President Roberts left the room, the shuttered clicking firmly behind him. The darkness that greeted his departure echoed the uncertainty of the path ahead. But deep within him, a newfound vigor simmered, fueled by the resilience and defiance that remained hidden beneath his presidential facade. A stern-faced correctional officer motioned him towards a small booth, enclosing him within a glass partition. On the other side, an officer prepared to capture his mugshot. President Roberts' heart raced as he tried to remain stoic, aware that every movement and expression would be captured for the world to see.

With a practiced detachment, the officer adjusted the height of the chair before President Roberts and signaled for him to be seated. The president's hands trembled slightly as they rested upon the table before him, his fingers interlaced. As the camera shutter clicked, preserving this ignoble moment in history, the president's face contorted with a mixture of despair, defiance, and traces of lingering pride.

His mugshot now taken, President Roberts was led to a nearby table where another officer prepared to fingerprint him. The scrutiny intensified, as each finger was meticulously pressed onto an ink pad, then rolled onto the pristine paper. The president felt a hint of vulnerability wash over him as he saw his distinctive fingerprints, symbols of his individuality, transferred onto the card. It was a stark reminder that even the most powerful among us are not immune to the consequences of their actions.

 - user: You need to add the drive home. Also, add three characters in the car with him: a driver, Roberts’ body man, and a secret service agent. We need dialogue in the ride to and from the jail. We need to know that he lost the election in 2021 but is running again, claiming that the booking is a witch hunt. Please revise accordingly

 - robot: As an AI text-based assistant, I can help you revise the given scenario. Here's an updated version with the requested additions:

---

Title: Ride Home from Jail

Scene: A car driving on a city street. It's late afternoon, and the sun is setting.

Characters:

- John Roberts: Former politician, running for election again.

- Driver: A middle-aged man, professional and attentive.

- Body Man: Roberts' trusted aide, sharply dressed and vigilant.

- Secret Service Agent: A well-built individual, focused and serious.

---

[The scene starts with John Roberts walking out of the jail, surrounded by reporters. He looks determined, yet slightly disheveled. He enters the waiting car, taking a deep breath.]

Driver: Welcome back, Mr. Roberts. I hope your time in there wasn't too rough.

John Roberts: Thank you, Frank. It wasn't pleasant, but it's over for now. Let's head home.

[The car starts moving, and the Body Man hands Roberts a bottle of water.]

Body Man: You must be exhausted, sir. Here, have some water.

John Roberts: Thanks, Mark. I appreciate it. [Takes a sip]

Secret Service Agent: (looking out the window, scanning the surroundings) Sir, our primary concern is your safety. We'll be monitoring the situation closely.

John Roberts: I understand, Agent Sullivan. I appreciate the Secret Service's presence.

[The car merges onto a highway, and the conversation turns to the recent events.]

Driver: Mr. Roberts, what do you want to say to your supporters about this arrest?

John Roberts: Frank, this arrest was nothing more than a witch hunt. Since losing the election in 2021, I've become a target for those who fear my message of change and progress. But I'm not giving up. I'm more determined than ever to fight for what's right, and the people will see that.

Body Man: Sir, we're here to support you all the way. You've touched so many lives, and they believe in your vision.

John Roberts: Thank you, Mark. Your unwavering support means the world to me. We'll turn this situation around and show everyone the truth.

[The car approaches Roberts' house, and the conversation shifts to future plans.]

Driver: Mr. Roberts, what's your strategy for the upcoming election?

John Roberts: Frank, we need to focus on connecting with the people, sharing our message directly with them. We'll host town halls, organize community events, and embrace digital platforms to reach every corner of our district. That's how we'll win hearts and minds.

Secret Service Agent: Sir, security will be a top priority given recent events. We'll ensure your safety throughout the campaign.

John Roberts: Thank you, Agent Sullivan. It's essential to maintain the trust and safety of both my team and the public.

[The car stops in front of Roberts' house. He steps out, looking determined.]

John Roberts: Gentlemen, let's get to work. We have a campaign to run, and it starts now.

[The Driver, Body Man, and Secret Service Agent nod in agreement as Roberts enters his house with renewed purpose.]

---

I hope this revised scenario meets your requirements! Let me know if there's anything else I can assist you with.

 - user: I want you to rewrite the entire story from beginning to end. Roberts is a self centered, corrupt man who tried to make money from his Presidency. He is charged with four different crimes, indicted, and booked. The Fulton County booking is his fourth. Rewrite

 - robot: Once upon a time in the not-so-distant future, on a fateful Saturday, August 26, 2023, the world watched as the once-revered President, Mr. Roberts, faced the consequences of his self-centered and corrupt actions. He had shamelessly tried to exploit his position for personal gain throughout his presidency, leaving a trail of deceit and scandal in his wake.

However, justice could not be eluded forever. The long arm of the law finally caught up with Roberts, as he was charged with not just one, but four different crimes. The severity of his transgressions shook the nation to its core, eroding the trust and faith once placed in their leader.

The charges against Roberts ranged from fraud and embezzlement to bribery and abuse of power. The evidence against him was overwhelming, leaving no doubt of his guilt. The authorities meticulously built their case against him, gathering testimonies, financial records, and incriminating documents that would bring him to justice.

As the legal proceedings unfolded, the public eagerly awaited the moment Roberts would be indicted. The anticipation was palpable, as people anticipated seeing a man who had abused his power held accountable for his actions. Finally, the day arrived, and Roberts was formally indicted on all charges. The announcement sent shockwaves throughout the nation, signaling the beginning of the end for his reign of corruption.

With the indictment, Roberts was swiftly taken into custody. The arresting officers ensured that he was treated no differently than any other individual facing such serious allegations. His arrogance and sense of entitlement were shattered as he was led away in handcuffs, closely watched by a crowd that had once cheered his glamorous rise to power.

Amidst the chaos and media frenzy, Roberts was booked in Fulton County, making it the fourth time he had faced the repercussions of his crimes. The booking process was thorough and unrelenting, as he underwent the standard procedures that had humbled numerous individuals before him. Each step he made was a stark reminder of the powerlessness he now felt.

As Roberts was escorted to his temporary cell, his luxurious lifestyle faded into memory, replaced by the stark reality of his actions catching up to him. The walls of the prison served as a sobering reminder of the consequences of his choices, offering no escape from the judgment of the law or the remorse he felt deep within.

The story of Roberts, once a prominent figure of authority and influence, had taken a dramatic twist. His legacy had crumbled, forever overshadowed by his greed and disregard for the very principles he was elected to preserve. The nation slowly began to heal from the damage he had inflicted, as the collective resolve to rebuild and restore integrity to their institutions grew stronger with each passing day.

And so, the world watched as the corrupt ruler faced the consequences of his actions, a testament to the enduring power of justice. Roberts' fate served as a reminder that even those in the highest positions of authority were not immune to being held accountable. The story of his downfall would be etched into history as a warning to future leaders, reminding them that true greatness lies in selflessness, integrity, and the unwavering commitment to serve the people they represent.