A Fawlty Towers script? Si, senor!

Ok, so I gave ChatGPT the following scenario:

"Imagine a theatrical script for a situation comedy set in a hotel in Torquay, England. The proprietor is called Basil, an eccentric man who believes the calibre of guests to be low. His wife, Sybil, is often frustrated by Basil's incompetence. They employ a Spanish waiter called Manuel, who struggles to understand English.  Basil suspects that two guests, who claim to be married, may be lying."

Here's what our favourite AI came up with:

Scene: The hotel lobby in Torquay, England. Basil is standing behind the reception desk, looking at a piece of paper. Sybil is standing next to him, looking annoyed. Manuel is hovering nearby, trying to look busy.

Basil: (to Sybil) I don't know why we get such low-calibre guests at this hotel. Look at these two - Mr. and Mrs. Smith. They claim to be married, but I suspect they might be lying.

Sybil: (sighing) Basil, it's not our job to judge the marital status of our guests. Just make sure they pay their bill on time and leave a good review.

Basil: (shrugging) I suppose you're right. I'll have Manuel keep an eye on them and report back to me if he sees anything suspicious.

Manuel: (nodding) Si, senor. I will be very discreet.

Sybil: (rolling her eyes) Manuel, do you even know what "discreet" means?

Manuel: (puzzled) Uh, es una palabra muy grande y no la entiendo muy bien...

Sybil: (exasperated) Never mind, Manuel. Just do your best.

(The sound of a door slamming is heard offstage.)

Basil: (perking up) Ah, speaking of our suspicious guests - I think they're back from their outing.

Sybil: (sighing) Great. Let's hope they don't cause any more problems.

(Mr. and Mrs. Smith enter the lobby, looking harried.)

Mr. Smith: (to Basil) Excuse me, but do you have any recommendations for a good restaurant in the area? We're in the mood for something romantic.

Basil: (sneering) I doubt you two would know romance if it hit you in the face.

Sybil: (elbowing Basil) Basil!

Basil: (clearing his throat) Ah, yes. Well, there are several excellent restaurants in the area. I recommend the seafood place down the street - it has a lovely ambiance.

Mrs. Smith: (smiling) Thank you. We'll definitely check it out.

(Basil and Sybil exchange a wary look as Mr. and Mrs. Smith exit the lobby.)

Basil: (to Manuel) Keep an eye on those two. I have a feeling they're up to something.

Manuel: (nodding) Si, senor. I will be very discreet.

(Sybil rolls her eyes and heads offstage, muttering to herself.)

End scene.

Becoming a Twister board

I spent yesterday evening in an old factory building off Brick Lane playing kids' games with an organisation called Fun Fed. The idea is that a bunch of adults get together and act like children for a couple of hours. We played tag and stuck big coloured discs on ourselves so that we could become human Twister mats. There was an awful lot of running around and I was thinking that I ought to get to aikido a bit more often. Being a child is very hard work.

When one name isn't enough

You may have heard the news reports about the turmoil in Kingston, Jamaica, resulting from the government's attempts to pin down a notorious drug lord on behalf of the US. I was struck by the number of self-styled monikers this guy has given himself. He is, depending on the channel you listen to, known on the street as 'Dudas', 'The Big Man' and 'The President' - worshipped by many impoverished Kingston residents as a benefactor to slum dwellers. It's his real name that seems most appropriate, however. If you were a drug baron called Christopher Coke, wouldn't you leave it at that? It's certainly not a name to be sniffed at.

Captain Birdseye and other people of rank

Regular readers may recall that I once doubted the existence of Yeo Valley. I'd never heard of the Yeo mountain range and I therefore rated the likelihood of there being a valley at somewhere between 0 and 5%. Of course, I had yoghurt all over my face when I discovered that the place really does exist. Somewhere in Somerset, I seem to recall. Today, having read an article in the latest edition of The Marketer magazine, I'm astonished to discover that there really was a Captain Birdseye. Well, I need to qualify that just a little. There was a Mister Clarence Birdseye who invented the fish finger back in 1955. The avuncular, uniformed figure who dominated our TV screens for about thirty years may have been an invention of over-eager advertising creatives, but he didn't blow in on a trawler during a squall. There was actually some connection to a real human being. These revelations about fish and yoghurt are causing me considerable disquiet, because I'm wondering h...

WASHED AND READY TO EAT

Search This Blog