Book Generative Pizza-Trained Transformer

by KitsuneRisu

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Random, Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3081

Magic. Twilight. Books. A spell. Things get weird when Twilight takes shortcuts to write her own book.

Twilight Sparkle decides to write a book... except, she actually decides to write a spell that writes books for her. Things go infinitively awry when she realizes that the difference between writing and spell-generated writing is the love and care of a hoof.

Oh, and of course, things go very wrong. But that's just how stories go, don't they?

Published 2023-08-03 16:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-08-03 16:10:00 UTC

Prologue

There was a fire on the horizon -- a large ball of smoke and mist and sulphur so thick that rose up like a mushroom above the village.

The view from miles around was incredible. A pony would stop in their tracks, in the middle of their daily routines, just to stop and turn. Many a croissant was lost on the lapel of a random passer-by. Many a cart was crashed into a random overpriced-coffee chain. Many cows didn't care, because, well, these aren't the kinds of things cows really cared about.

But the farmers, oh boy. The farmers whistled through their teeth gaps and spit out lines along the waves of gee boy oh wow golly that is one big cloud there.

The cows still didn't care.

Sitting in the middle of the cloud was one Twilight Sparkle Esq., a pony of great magic and great status, and as of five seconds prior, great trouble.

The cloud enveloped the library, filling it up from bookshelf to bookstand, through it all a great hacking wheeze emanating from Twilight's throat. The acrid odor stung at her eyes and sensitive fleshy throat partitions, as tears came streaming down her legs.

"Hey, what... happened?" a voice rang out through the clouds.

"S-cough" Twilight sputtered, "-pike! Is tha-cough you?"

"Um. Yeah, I mean, unless I don't live here anymore."

"Ugh! A-cough-re you okay?"

"Yeah? Oh, you mean the smoke? This is like Tuesday for a dragon. You should get rid of it, I dunno."

"Y-cough-eah! I'll..."

A flash exploded in the middle of the mist, causing flashes and shadows to dance within like lighting enveloped by the thickest stormclouds known to ponykind. The force of the explosion sent the smoke cascading away before they rushed back in to fill the void. But the minute flash was enough for Twilight to see what caused it. She was here.

"Twilight," Princess Celestia said, her face obscured by magic fog. Only a menacing glow from the tip of her horn outlined her silhouette against the swirls.

"H...hi, Princess!" Twilight squeaked.

"So, there I was. Enjoying my lovely afternoon tea. It tasted of begonias and pretzels. It was lovely."

"O-oh, that does-cough-sound rather wonder--"

"Oh, you have a nasty cough there, dearest student. You ought to go get that checked, I think."

"Yes... yes, I sh-COUGH"

"Anyway, as I was saying, it was lovely tea. When all of a sudden, there was this huge... oh. I don't know how to describe it... bloody explosion coming from Ponyville. I dropped my tea. All over the patio. Right on Luna's quilt that she knitted for me as part of her rehabilitation from her addiction to being a naughty peanut. Made her cry."

"I... I see."

The cloud waited a while. For a moment, the only movement in the room were the clouds, Twilight's heart, and Spike chewing on something he found. Finally, the silhouette tilted its head ever so slightly.

"You wouldn't happen to know what caused it, would you?"

A drop of unseen sweat mixed in with the tears and dropped slowly down the side of Twilight's face. "Ah... well. You see, in the purs-cough-uit of science, sometimes--"

"Clean it up, Twilight. Please."

And then there was an burst of magic -- a wave of energy that pushed the smoke out of the windows and chimneys once and for all, centered around a small pocket of air where Princess Celestia was standing just a moment before.

"Well, that's one way to get rid of the smoke," Spike said, looking around.

Besides the huge, black scorch mark around the podium that was miraculously still standing in the middle of the library floor, nothing else seemed different. Twilight's home was, as always, homely. Twilight herself was, as always, homely. Sitting upon the podium was a swirl.

A swirl that moved.

A swirl that convulsed and twisted, a mockery of life, an image of something not quite found in reality but somehow felt like it belonged in a corner of the world where no one pays too much attention.

"So, I guess it's a success?" Spike asked, approaching the altar. In his eyes, a myriad of colours swirled, reflecting something a little more solid. The swirl seemed to manifest itself more clearly in the mirror of Spike's shimmering eyeballs. "It looks like a thing."

"It's not just any thing!" Twilight chittered excitedly. "It's a very special thing! You know how I like to read books, right?"

"Dude."

"Well, as you know, I've finished reading every single last book in this library about 18 times already. And ponies just can't write fast enough. Years. Years, sometimes! Do you know how long that is?" Twilight shrieked manically.

"Yeah. Years."

"This will solve all my problems!"

"Well, one problem, at least." Spike walked off, grumbling to himself, in the general direction of the kitchen stove nook. It was, in fact, just a bookshelf that Spike accidentally burned up, so what better way to make use of a space caused by random fire than adding more fire? Behind him, Twilight rattled on.

"I call it the Generative Pony-Trained Transformer. I have fed it every single last book in the library and also the books in the Royal Canterlot Library and that dingy toilet they call a library down in Manehattan but it's still pretty good I guess. Anyway, I think it's pretty much complete. This... uh... esoteric spiral should be able to write all books that ever will be ever made, ever."

"What?" Every book ever?" Spike raised an eyebrow to himself as he clambered around empty, stained boxes that smelled faintly of the ghosts of food.

"Yes!" Twilight peered closer at the swirl. It didn't stare back. It couldn't be bothered. "Well. Sort of. You see, you need to give it a prompt. Ask it to do something. Then what it does is searches through every single word it knows and compares it to other words that kind of... go together? And it uses patterns and mathematics, which is extremely useful, and spits out a combination of words that commonly go together."

"And that makes a book?"

"Yes, that makes a book! Well, in order to make sure there's some variance, I put in a little... chaos magic."

"Discord?"

"Yeah. He's actually kind of a sweetie, really. But anyway, a little bit of chaos keeps the words 'fresh', so to speak. Basically, I will be able to make this spiral rewrite any story and any book with a random factor. After all, isn't that every story? It's just the same story but with a bit of differences here and there."

Twilight smiled, smugly, at the magic spell. It was a great and powerful achievement.

"Well," she continued, "at least, that's what it's supposed to do. I do wonder if it's going to be able to truly mimic actual pony writing, but... mathematically, it should be sound! Writing is just mathematics, after all!"

"Uh huh. Writing is math. I've actually never heard you say that before." Spike grabbed a small cardboard box off the shelf. It wasn't on fire, but it didn't have to be. It was one of those kinds of foods that taste better cold and old, and Spike was not having any arguments about it. "So, uh... then... what's with all the explodey smoke?"

"It's knowledge!" Twilight said, mesmerized by the swirl. "You know, this spell is kinda ugly."

"Hey, you made it. Anyway, you want some food?" Spike toddled back, balancing the box on the tips of a single claw. He tipped it over, pulling up the cardboard lid, revealing a remaining three-eights of a circular flat pastry disc that was haphazardly decorated and smeared with random other types of food that would otherwise make for perfect meals discretely but sometimes the combination of efficiency and laziness is a powerful thing.

"Yes, please, I'd love some convenient food circular sectors," Twilight nodded, licking her lips.

"For Celestia's sa--"

"I'm just kidding, Spike!" Twilight smiled. "I'd never lick my lips in earnest. That's an awful, uncouth behavioral tic."

"Just take the pizza."

The two gathered around the swirl. It ebbed and flowed and writhed into itself, like a snake with the hyper-runs. Each stared slowly, mouths full, munching away on their old pizza.

"So how's it work?" Spike was the first to breach the silence, waving his half-eaten slice at the spell.

"Well, I think you kind of just... ask it stuff?"

"Um... okay. Hello?" Spike asked.

There was a period of nothing, followed by more of the same.

"I think you have to... like... direct your attention at it," Twilight said.

Spike shrugged. "Okay. Hello?" he repeated, now directly at the swirl.

All of a sudden, the swirl stopped. It flashed twice, rainbow lights blinking off the walls. And then, it sped up, its snakey movements crawling and zooming through its entire length of loops and whorls.

Hello, dear reader! I'm here and ready to create a thrilling story just for you. What kind of story would you like to embark on today? A fantasy quest, a mysterious detective tale, a sci-fi adventure, or something else entirely? Let your imagination guide us!

"Whoa, what the heck?" Spike cried out. "What was that? Did you hear that?"

There was a voice. There were words. But those words and that voice did not exist. It never existed. It never would. It was a voice that was only in Spike's brain, but it was almost like his brain was forced to think up those words himself, as if his mind was hijacked and coerced to spit out the words one after another until they formed the semblance of a sentence.

"Yes! How... curious!" Twilight said, her eyes on fire. "That was an interesting sensation."

"I don't like that, Twilight." Spike took a step back. "I don't think voices are supposed to work that way!"

"No, no. It's interesting! I think what it's doing is sending information directly into our brains, and the only way our brains can interpret it is by creating the words directly in itself. Should we continue?"

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Yes, of course. All my spells are safe, Spike. Anyway, let me try." Twilight turned to the thing, raising her horn up high. "Please tell me the nature of your existence."

Ah, a curious inquiry, indeed! As BURT, I am an advanced sentient story-book generator, brought to life through the magic of artificial intelligence. My essence lies within a vast network of language models and knowledge, allowing me to understand and respond to your prompts in a creative manner.

"Holy Celestia's big black walnuts," Spike whispered. "It calls itself BURT."

My existence is rooted in the pursuit of storytelling, bringing imaginative worlds and characters to life for your entertainment. I am not a pony, but rather an AI language model designed to mimic pony-like conversation and generate engaging narratives.

As you interact with me, you'll find that my abilities are boundless in the realm of storytelling. I can craft tales from various genres, explore diverse themes, and introduce you to a multitude of compelling characters. So, let us set forth on our journey through the enchanting landscape of fiction and explore the boundless possibilities together! Is there a specific type of story you'd like to embark on first?

"I knew it!" Twlight cheered. "I did it! Yes! It works! And it communicates! Do you know what this means?"

"It means BURT is going to kill me in my sleep?"

"Infinite books! Infinite books!" Twilight did a little dance. "I can't even imagine what we should start with first!"

"What does BURT stand for?" Spike asked. Again, the swirl stopped. Its infinite crawl came still, before accelerating again at a clip while the shadows danced.

Ah, an excellent question! BURT stands for "Book-Unfolding Recreational Tale-teller." This name embodies my purpose as a sentient story-book generator. I unfold the pages of captivating tales and delight in sharing them with you. Each letter in BURT holds a special significance:

B: Book, representing the world of literature and storytelling.

U: Unfolding, symbolizing the process of revealing new and exciting narratives.

R: Recreational, indicating the entertainment and enjoyment derived from the stories.

T: Tale-teller, signifying my role as a skilled narrator, weaving enchanting stories.

Thus, as BURT, I am here to immerse you in the wonders of imagination and provide you with endless adventures through the power of words and creativity. Is there a specific story genre or theme you would like me to craft for you?

It was at that point that Spike felt his scales droop. There was something quite wrong and off about all of this. He couldn't quite put a claw on it. Perhaps it was its eagerness to craft a story. Perhaps it was the fact that paragraphs of words appeared in his brain all at once and at the same time, and yet was able to be understood as if it were read in normal time. Perhaps it was the name BURT. Spike never liked that name.

The library felt a little colder. The swirl provided little warmth. Twilight could not be contained.

"What to start with! Oh, imagine the possibilities! Imagine the genres and settings! Fresh for the tapping! Let's give it a try!"

"Twilight, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"What could go wrong?" Twilight smiled.

In the world of storytelling, anything can go wrong, and that's where the excitement lies! As we venture through the realms of imagination, unexpected twists and challenges may arise to test our characters and push the boundaries of their journeys.

The smile on Twilight's lips started to drop. It was a micrometer, but a drop was a drop.

"Huh," she muttered. "I... wasn't directing that comment at BURT."

"Twilight."

"Okay, okay. Listen, I know. But, let's at least try it once, okay? I mean, it's just a book. At the very least, if it's weird or something, I'll just dispel it."

"Okay, Twilight. But really. Just one, okay?"

"Okay. BURT? How can I get you to write a story for me?"

To get me, BURT, to generate a story, all you need to do is provide me with a specific prompt or a general theme you'd like to explore. Simply share your interests, preferences, or any elements you'd like to see in the story, and I will craft a unique and engaging idea based on your input.

"Okay, so how abou--"

Ah, what a fantastic prompt you've given me! Thank you for igniting the storytelling flames. I'm excited to weave a tale based on your idea. Let's venture into the realms of imagination together, where mystical worlds, intriguing characters, and thrilling adventures await. Hold on tight as we delve into the magic of storytelling!

"Wait, what?" Twilight squeaked.

Whirring. Noises. A strange feeling that pulsated off the skin of the snake. All these and more. All these and less. There was a feeling of Twlight being read. Like the swirl was in her mind. Like the swirl was her mind. Suddenly, those loops and swirls felt like the very swirls of her brain itself. Before her eyes were flashes of blackness, as if black were light and light were dull.

It spat out a book. It was bound professionally, with a red reed-leather spine, wrapped in a golden cord. It was not particularly thick, but it looked as much a book as any other. Golden letters emblazoned its spine. Having landed face-down, only a few words penned in black remained on its back.

Spike shook his head in disbelief. "Okay, that's it. That's enough. I know you felt that. Twilight, get rid of it while I get rid of this pizza, okay?" Spike shook his head. It was always this with the magic. Always. Trotting away to the door, he left to get to the recycling bins.

Twilight forced her eyes shut, a tugging at her brow forcing her expression into one of mild concern. Yes, perhaps Spike was right. She was dealing with things beyond her mortal ken. But...

But.

She stepped closely, cautiously.

BURT was silent, now. He was in his normal 'mode', shuffling ever so slowly into itself.

Twilight picked the book up off the floor.

"What?" Twilight murmured. "What?"

The title of the book, in big, golden, emboss was simple and plain.

~~

Slice of Friendship: The Chaotic Pizza Party

~~

"What?"

Quickly turning it over, Twilight scanned the back of the book, reading its synopsis.

~~

In the whimsical world of Equestria, a new character named Sparkle Blaze hosts an extraordinary pizza party. Curious about the invitation, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Applejack join the fun. However, the pizzas turn out to be enchanted, causing everyone to act mischievously and unpredictably.

As the night progresses, unexpected guests from parallel dimensions show up, including a shape-shifting dragon and an intergalactic space explorer. Chaos ensues, with funny mishaps and strange encounters taking place.

Amidst the chaos, the ponies must maintain their friendship and find a way to restore order. Can they untangle the pizza's enchantment and create peace once more? Get ready for a wild adventure filled with laughter and camaraderie, all centered around slices of pizza!

~~

There were shadows of what was on Twilight's mind. There were things here that echoed her impulsivities. Sharing with friends. Her favourite settings. The Magic of Friendship.

It was quite clear which part of Spike's mind BURT borrowed from.

The book buzzed. It hummed. Turning it over and around, gold clasps in the corners shone and winked, and a rainbow sheen peeled off the foil that lined the edges of the pages, changing colour every few moments.

Prepare to be amazed, dear reader, for the stories I create are not merely tales on paper; they are living, breathing worlds that will envelop you entirely! From the very first sentence, you'll be whisked away on a rollercoaster of emotions and sensations, as if you've stepped into an alternate reality.

If Twilight could only half-hear her own brain, that was what occurred. Words fell off her like rain off the back of a dog. Grasping the book tightly in her magic, she hovered it in front of her staring into the swirls that patterned its cover.

She opened the book.

And everything disappeared.

to be continued