I was dicking around with the Bull's Arse online and it shat this out:
"In the vast expanse of Fenspace, where starships danced among constellations and rogue AIs whispered secrets across the cosmic winds, two souls found each other. A.C. Peters, the brilliant engineer who breathed life into metal and code, and Noah Scott, the billionaire with a penchant for vintage spacecraft collided like celestial bodies in a cosmic ballet."
"In the vast expanse of Fenspace, where starships danced among constellations and rogue AIs whispered secrets across the cosmic winds, two souls found each other. A.C. Peters, the brilliant engineer who breathed life into metal and code, and Noah Scott, the billionaire with a penchant for vintage spacecraft collided like celestial bodies in a cosmic ballet."
I love the smell of rotaries in the morning. You know one time, I got to work early, before the rush hour. I walked through the empty carpark, I didn't see one bloody Prius or Golf. And that smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole carpark, smelled like.... ....speed.
One day they're going to ban them.