I’ve been having some fun recently with a predictive text algorithm that allows me to mash books together. First I combined Dyrk Ashton’s Paternus and J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter, and then I combined Scott Lynch’s Gentleman Bastard series and Pat Rothfuss’ Kingkiller Chronicles. Pat actually seemed to… well… he certainly thought it was… something.
Anyway, I figured that it was time to get some of this Fantasy Vs. Fantasy stuff onto the blog. Here is what a computer managed to throw together using Joe Abercrombie’s The Blade Itself, and Robert Jordan’s The Eye of the World:
The door opened to yell at Glokta, but immediately regretted it.
He was a strange little man, with drooping eyelids that made him feel like a girl with beautiful watery eyes.
“I am afraid that I am a dentist…” he said, smiling wide with teeth bared in a rictus snarl.
Glokta was standing on a table in a thick blanket which trailed on the floor, and a few minutes earlier Jezal had been a woman. The room was growing blurry, but Glokta knew that he could see the false dragon and his companions making Rand’s bed.
“The world is my master now. Death is master of the world.”
Say one thing for Logen Ninefingers, say that bitch has always been lucky.
The northman scratched his eyes thoughtfully and hurried to catch his breath.
“The dragon reborn will bring violence to the helpless and innocent,” he whispered, “to eat the flesh of men, trollocs, fades, draghkar, and other things. For he is a golden madman.”
Glokta nodded furiously and promptly left the room.
Logen was not a false dragon. But he was the Bloody-Nine.
“I will never improve in Emond’s Field if I do not become part animal,” he screamed.
He drew his blanket tight around his shoulders and hurried towards the door.
Rand, Mat, and Perrin were searching for the First of the Magi.
Bayaz spent his days doing nothing but fucking savages and corpses.
The wizard stumbled over his own thoughts and suddenly he was a little girl under Logen’s armpit with a satisfying rhythm.
“This is not my idea of manners,” he said, looking longingly at the warder. “I am unworthy”.
With that infuriating smile on his face, he tossed his ever-bulging cloak onto the balcony that overlooked Agelmar’s private gardens — green and flowering.
He was not entirely convinced that he wanted to be a little girl.
He wanted to be a gleeman.