Character Voice Test

Setting: A dimly lit, wooden table in a tavern located somewhere outside of time. On the table sits a tankard of grog, a goblet of wine, and a can of Jolt Cola.

ZeroCool: (Adjusting oversized sunglasses) Listen, you guys aren't getting it. This AI stuff? It’s the ultimate warez. It’s like... imagine hacking the Gibson, but the Gibson talks back and writes your code for you. It’s phat.

Sir Galen: (Resting a gauntleted hand on the table) Verily, thou speakest in riddles, sorcerer. Thou claimest this... "golem" creates tapestries and ballads from nothing? Without the sweat of the brow or the inspiration of the Divine?

Captain Ironbeard: (Polishing a hook with a rag) Aye, sounds like a scoundrel’s trick to me. I knew a parrot once in Tortuga. Clever bird. Could mimic the Governor’s voice perfectly. Didn’t mean the bird knew how to run a colony, though. Is this "Chat-G-P-T" just a mechanical parrot, lad?

ZeroCool: Whoa, harsh. But... kinda? It scrapes the whole web—all the data—and predicts what comes next. It’s not alive, it’s just crunching serious bandwidth. It’s like a script kiddie that read every text file in existence.

Sir Galen: It steals the words of true scribes? This is dishonorable! A bard spends a lifetime mastering the lute. To have a soulless box mimic his craft in the blink of an eye... 'tis witchcraft most foul. Does it possess a spirit? Does it feel the weight of the words it speaks?

ZeroCool: No spirit, man. Just math.

Captain Ironbeard: So it plunders the words of others and stitches ’em together like a sail made of stolen flags? Har! I can respect the piracy of it, aye, but I wouldn’t trust it to navigate a storm. If it doesn’t know the sea, it can’t chart the course. It’s just guessing where the X marks the spot.

ZeroCool: Exactly! Sometimes it hallucinates. It just makes stuff up totally randomly.

Sir Galen: (Horrified) It speaks falsehoods as if they were gospel? And the common folk consult this oracle?

ZeroCool: All the time. They use it to write essays, code, love letters...

Captain Ironbeard: (Laughs raucously) A love letter written by a machine! "Dearest wench, my love for you is deep as the... [computational error]... Turnip?"

Sir Galen: It is a mockery of the human heart. I shall stick to my quill and parchment. If I am to write a sonnet, let it be my own clumsy hand that pens it.

ZeroCool: I don't know, man. Information wants to be free. But I gotta admit, it feels a bit too corporate. Like "The Man" is trying to automate the underground. Where’s the soul? Where’s the rebellion?

Captain Ironbeard: Aye. A ship that sails itself has no need for a captain. And a captain with no ship... well, that’s just a man standing in the water. Pass the grog, wizard. I’ve had enough of this "Artificial Intelligence."

Sir Galen: Agreed. Let us drink to real things. To steel, to blood, and to ink.

ZeroCool: (Clinks can against the tankard) To analog. Crash and burn.