So I Used the Bonsai Story Generator...

And, oh boy, is that thing a work of art.
N
ow, some of you may have read the brilliance that is Atlanta Nights. For those of you who do not know, Atlanta Nights was a collaborative novel by a group of science-fiction and fantasy authors, which is undeniably and irrevocably one of the most terrible books ever written.
You may think I’m going out on a limb with saying that. Yes, yes, I do know the quality of my stories is at best synonymous to gas station coffee, but that was the purpose of the book. To be as terrible, perhaps—gasp!—even worse than the stale, watered-down, dirty dark liquid my country consumes around 180,000,000 kilograms (396,831,000 pounds) of every year. Written under the pseudonym of Travis Tea, these writers sought to make an absolutely unpublishable pile of steaming garbage to test if the publishing firm PublishAmerica would accept it. If they did, it would prove that PublishAmerica did not read the manuscript, and is in fact, thus, consequently responsible for all the other published steaming garbage.
While Atlanta Nights was not published by PA, it was by Lulu Press, it understanding that these chapters that were word-for-word the same, identically numbered in different parts of the story, and written by a computer to be incoherent were all part of a joke. The software used to make that incoherent chapter is actually part of a website/workshop called Critters Writers Workshop. Using a web interface named Bonsai Story Generator, the writer of Chapter 34 made a true piece of work.
Now, using the same interface with a manuscript of my own, I have made some art of my own. Note that I have commented on some of these, which will be found in parentheses.
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Your Bonsai Story Tree starter sentences:
Far into the future, there was nothing he did not, he said to the floor.
A watery sigh from History class, anything man made was bound on by a wave of blood through the phone.
“Thank you, Jesse,” Joey nearly threw the phone to some other place—he honestly had joked.
But the boy He had no answers. (Me, whenever the teacher calls.)
So he ran. (Also me, whenever the teacher calls.)
It was because of science.
Not part of yellowing textbooks lying around tables.
Man made was bound to be in serious tone returned right after, more He dropped the floor.
A shriek so he accepted it Joey couldn’t hear the man with a scientist and nearly Jesse-like.
His voice was nearly like an earthquake, shaking the past tense?
Because he did not, he did understand. (Me, @life)
He felt like the cold asphalt. (Don’t we all?)
“Now, who bore the lord of nature.
Living with a smug expression. (A certain classmate.)
He answered the lab, it’s not—not good. (Me, during the Science exam.)
Terrible, really. (My results on the Science exam.)
They’re—” A shriek so he accepted it may be. (My parent’s reaction to my results on the Science exam.)
It was because of science. (Why I failed.)
Not part of yellowing textbooks lying around and books and toys that when adults thought the truth was too much, they lied. (This paradoxical nonsense is brought to you by...)
They lied.
Joey I have a Green Day CD?” “Sadly, no,” for three decades.” A watery sigh from me!
Sh—” He was cut off by a wave of blood through the receiver.
“Shh, shh. (My Science teacher.)
Shut your classmates. (Also my Science teacher.)
But Joey did not understand, losing what few acquaintances he came out Get out!
Get away from the movie fanatic. (My classmates @me.)
“Remember that next time.” His breath came through the Navarro men, his shirt turned frigid when adults thought He was even scarier outside.
The sky was too much, they haven’t called out school tomorrow—the government these papers about it.
It’s really—like, very disturbing. (My classmates, also @me.)
It’s scary.” “Wha—t does it you’ll be nowhere near Jesse-like for the next time.” His voice was because of storms.
Storms were brighter.
It only stressed him putting a teacher, who are you?
Do you hear the man made was sure he did not like this; disorder was already a gold-striped scarlet tie and I will.
Do what’s best friend getting kidnapped.
The flashes were normal for the next few days. (Something that would actually make sense in my story.)
“It’s classified information.
If I say it, you’ll be proud of.
“Hello?” An unsure of that.
But Joey put the window.
“What the same as his charming father’s crown.
He felt like rough stones, scraping across cold knife of sites with a smug expression. (Better analogy than Twilight’s.)
He knew things, things things that lay about.
Joey was about to bolt to be disastrous at a pace that next time.” His voice was nothing he arrived at the lab, it’s not—not good.
Terrible, really. (Yes. Yes it is.)
They’re—” A strange grin.
“Do not normally scared of blood through the flat blades of blinding light. (Yes, who is scared of such menial things?)
Wild winds whipped their switches through the halls.
At last.
Familiar.
Joey was always a runaway.
He had brilliant parents, a scientist and also pretty damn useless, in particular was his life.
Joey I have something. (Something that makes sense. It’s a miracle! A miracle!)
Something very bad at the lab, it’s not—not good.
Terrible, really.
They’re—” A shriek so dearly to know.
Secrets, people that used them.
Using them was bad.
Easy, simple textbook answers.
Joey’s specialty.
Joey ran to some other place—he honestly had been running through the halls.
At last.
Familiar.
Joey ran to be bound to be glued to know.
Like drugs. (Well.)
Drugs existed. (Yes, they do.)
So did people that used them. (It’s actually cohesive.)
Using them was bad. (An anti-drugs PSA brought to you by Bonsai Trees.)
Easy, simple textbook answers.
Joey’s specialty.
Joey learned anything man made this.
If I say it, you’ll be proud of.
“Hello?” An unsure voice came through the second.
His serious tone drop.
It was because of it.
But the boy or I’ll hit harder than that next time.” His breath came in short pants, as easy as all this disorder was stopped by hours of nature now “Yes?” “I got wilder with flashes of yellowing textbooks lying around tables.
Man made was bound on by a wave of thunder.
It yelled once it and moved on.
His breath came in short pants, as well.
Things he ran.
It was nearly Jesse-like.
His voice was a boy.
He was unsure of that.
But Joey did not like even touching an inch of static. (Who does?)
Joey was sure he could do to the floor, still hearing the thought out like a burning plastic.
Too metallic, too much, they haven’t called out school tomorrow—the government these papers about and he did not follow.” A shriek so he accepted it you’ll be glued to some other things as his charming father’s crown.
He was unsure voice came through the Navarro men, his chest seeming to grow closer, like a shock of thunder.
It was nearly threw the angry shouts of the many instructions I can track you, and more.
He grinned crookedly with a smug expression.
He had brilliant parents, a wave of thunder. (Zeus is at it again.)
It was clear Jesse would be glued to your classmates. (The weirdest dystopia ever written – New York Times)
But the boy was old enough to some other end of the kidnapper through the pounding of yellowing textbooks lying around and books slid on the floor as easy as though he looked like the cold knife of the many instructions I not in particular was nothing he arrived at the lab, it’s not—not good.
Terrible, really.
They’re—” A shriek so he accepted it you’ll be bound on His train of nature.
Living with every retelling of truth.
Fortunately, Joey nearly threw the floor, still hearing the boy was unsure of nature now a burning He knew other things things that <><><> It all seemed like millions of the Navarro men, his black shoes seemed to the living room at a pace that <><><> It yelled once it It’s really—like, very disturbing.
It’s scary.” “Wha—t does it you’ll be nowhere near to burning.
He had light Wild winds whipped their switches through it.
Joey couldn’t hear me?
Remember, I can’t believe they lied.
They lied.
Joey ran to their mouths. (Remember, there is presidential-Shrek fanfiction and this. I would rate both equally horrifying.)
Normally, Joey was not he said to a teacher of science let you live.
I say it, you’ll be disastrous at one point or another. (The truth is spoken.)
But this person in Joey’s previous words to your mouth, little boy, or another.
But the boy or I’ll hit harder than that next few days.
“It’s classified information.
If Joey learned anything from History class, anything man made this.
If I say He drew the floor, still hearing the happiest expressions when adults thought He was interviewed several times by an experiment.
His best friend getting kidnapped.
The flashes were merely natural occurrences of the Navarro ran towards his ears.
He had light near to the same question: “this will revolutionise the receiver.
“Shh, shh.
Shut your classmates.
But the boy was old enough to your classmates.
But this person in particular was nothing he looked like he came out of nature.
Living with every retelling of blinding light.
Wild winds whipped their switches through the phone.
“Thank you, Jesse,” Joey did not want to know that his Gym teacher would be in serious than ever expected from History class, anything man made was bound to be soon, but his black ... (A cliffhanger! What were his black? Shoes? His Gym teacher’s History yellowing books? The suspense!)
And that is, sadly, all this magnificent story generator has given us. If you want to give the Bonsai treatment to your story, or simply have nothing better to do, click/type in the URL: https://www.critters.org/bonsai/index.cgi
You’re welcome/I’m dreadfully sorry.