conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “How rude!” Claire, who had come along, was furious—being the stickler for decorum that she was.
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “Oh, sure, I’m the rude one here!”
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  The head chef didn’t seem to like the idea of being bossed around by a stranger, likely due to his professional pride.
conversations.prefix: Head Chef:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “Now, now, no need for that. You too, Miss Claire,” I tried to soothe them both. Picking a fight wouldn’t get us anywhere.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “I can make tasty, brand spankin’ new dishes well enough without yer meddlin’! I’ve just been holdin’ back on Her Majesty Dorothea’s account!” the head chef spat.
conversations.prefix: Head Chef:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  According to him, all the miserable fare he’d churned out thus far was due to his not being allowed to shine—and that was probably true. He held office in a ministry of the Nur Empire, one of the most powerful nations, so he was probably an elite in the culinary world—perhaps even the best chef in the empire, considering its meritocratic practices. Even if the empire itself didn’t respect chefs as a profession, his skill was still most certain. But skill wasn’t enough.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “I’m sure you’re right, but just making new, delicious dishes won’t be enough, so—”
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “Zip it! Whatever yer plannin’, you can leave me right out of it! I ain’t puttin’ up with outsiders lookin’ over my shoulder an’ orderin’ me around!” He was leaving us no room for negotiation. Now what?
conversations.prefix: Head Chef:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “Is something the matter?” someone called. Presumably having overheard us, Hilda entered the room, a puzzled look on her face.
conversations.prefix: Hilda:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “Oh, Miss Hilda,” the head chef said. “Nothin’ the matter, Miss, just a coupla brats talkin’ smack.”
conversations.prefix: Head Chef:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “Is that so? Could you explain what happened in detail?”
conversations.prefix: Hilda:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  I quickly briefed her.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  Once I finished, she nodded in understanding. “I think it will be best if you ascertain each other’s skills. Why not have a cook-off?”
conversations.prefix: Hilda:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “A cook-off?”
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “Yes, seeing as bickering back and forth here won’t accomplish anything. If the ministry chefs win, that will be proof of their skills, and the culinary reforms will continue according to their wishes. But if Rae wins, you chefs will have to recognize her skill and accept her advice. Will both parties agree to this?”
conversations.prefix: Hilda:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  What in the world? What kind of development is this? I thought, greatly taken aback.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “Wouldn’t have it any other way!” the head chef declared. “We’ve been workin’ this kitchen for generations, all the way since the late Emperor’s time, and we ain’t about to give it up to some nobody!”
conversations.prefix: Head Chef:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “Then you have no problem doing what the winner says if you lose?” Claire asked.
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “Sure, but there ain’t a snowball’s chance in hell of that happenin’!”
conversations.prefix: Head Chef:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  I personally didn’t feel the slightest bit inclined to participate, but Claire and the head chef were at each other’s throats. My choice was made for me.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “All right. I’ll do it,” I said.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “Wonderful. And you, chef?” Hilda asked.
conversations.prefix: Hilda:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  “You betcha."
conversations.prefix: Head Chef: