patch adams speech

Waking up from a nightmare several hours before dawn, Belle fetched a drink of water. She paused in front of her kitchen's window when she noticed a lit lantern in front of her mansion's garden. Her butler stood there, shovel in hand. This was no hour to be gardening. Curious, she made her way outside, but when she had gotten close enough to see a large and hollow pit next to her eternally-stoic and polite butler, she saw him pick up a rotten body. A DEAD BODY! Her eyes widened fearfully when she saw her handsome butler drop the rotting body into the fresh hole. She asked in horror, "What are you doing?!" Surprised to see his young miss awake at this hour, he stared at her with the same expression he had been keeping up for all these years. He had made sure she was asleep before coming here. "Gardening." "And the body?!" she looked at him in disbelief. "Fertilizer," he answered her before picking up the shovel that was on the ground. Belle was now certain something had possessed her butler. Who gardened dead bodies?! She then heard him ask her, "Want to help me in planting it, Miss Adams?" he gave her a sweet smile. Note: If you enjoy a book of comedy with light-hearted romance and a gothic background. This book is for you~

Als Belle mehrere Stunden vor Morgengrauen aus einem Albtraum aufwachte, holte sie sich ein Glas Wasser. Sie hielt vor dem Fenster ihrer Küche inne, als sie eine brennende Laterne vor dem Garten ihres Herrenhauses bemerkte. Ihr Butler stand dort mit einer Schaufel in der Hand. Dies war keine Stunde zum Gärtnern. Neugierig machte sie sich nach draußen, aber als sie nah genug herangekommen war, um eine große und tiefe Grube neben ihrem ewig stoischen und höflichen Butler zu sehen, sah sie, wie er einen verwesten Körper aufhob. EINE LEICHE! Ihre Augen weiteten sich ängstlich, als sie ihren gutaussehenden Butler sah, wie er den verwesenden Körper in das frische Loch warf. Sie fragte entsetzt: "Was tust du da?!" Überrascht, seine junge Herrin zu dieser Stunde wach zu sehen, starrte er sie mit demselben Gesichtsausdruck an, den er all die Jahre beibehalten hatte. Er hatte sichergestellt, dass sie schlief, bevor er hierherkam. "Gärtnern." "Und die Leiche?!", schaute sie ihn ungläubig an. "Dünger", antwortete er ihr, bevor er die Schaufel aufhob, die auf dem Boden lag. Belle war jetzt sicher, dass etwas von ihrem Butler Besitz ergriffen hatte. Wer vergrub schon Leichen als Gartenpflanze?! Dann hörte sie ihn fragen: "Möchten Sie mir beim Einpflanzen helfen, Fräulein Adams?" Er schenkte ihr ein süßes Lächeln. Hinweis: Wenn Sie ein Buch mit Komödie, leichtherziger Romanze und einem gotischen Hintergrund genießen. Dieses Buch ist für Sie~

Al despertarse de una pesadilla varias horas antes del amanecer, Belle fue a por un vaso de agua. Se detuvo frente a la ventana de la cocina cuando vio una linterna encendida frente al jardín de su mansión. Su mayordomo estaba allí, pala en mano. No era hora de dedicarse a la jardinería. Curiosa, salió al exterior, pero cuando se acercó lo suficiente como para ver un gran y profundo hoyo junto a su eternamente estoico y educado mayordomo, lo vio recoger un cuerpo en descomposición. ¡UN CADÁVER! Sus ojos se abrieron de par en par con miedo cuando vio a su apuesto mayordomo dejar caer el cuerpo putrefacto en el agujero recién cavado. Preguntó horrorizada: "¿¡Qué estás haciendo!?". Sorprendido de ver a su joven señorita despierta a esa hora, la miró con la misma expresión que había mantenido durante todos estos años. Se había asegurado de que estuviera dormida antes de venir. "Haciendo jardinería". "¿¡Y el cuerpo!?", lo miró con incredulidad. "Fertilizante", le respondió antes de recoger la pala que estaba en el suelo. Belle ahora estaba segura de que algo había poseído a su mayordomo. ¿¡Quién usa cadáveres para la jardinería!? Entonces le oyó preguntarle: "¿Quiere ayudarme a plantarlo, señorita Adams?", mientras le dedicaba una dulce sonrisa.

Se réveillant d'un cauchemar plusieurs heures avant l'aube, Belle alla chercher un verre d'eau. Elle s'arrêta devant la fenêtre de sa cuisine lorsqu'elle remarqua une lanterne allumée devant le jardin de son manoir. Son majordome se tenait là, une pelle à la main. Ce n'était pas l'heure de jardiner. Curieuse, elle se dirigea dehors, mais lorsqu'elle fut assez proche pour voir un grand trou béant à côté de son majordome éternellement stoïque et poli, elle le vit ramasser un corps en décomposition. UN CADAVRE ! Ses yeux s'écarquillèrent de peur lorsqu'elle vit son séduisant majordome laisser tomber le corps en décomposition dans le trou fraîchement creusé. Elle demanda, horrifiée : « Qu'est-ce que vous faites ?! » Surpris de voir sa jeune demoiselle éveillée à cette heure, il la dévisagea avec la même expression qu'il arborait depuis toutes ces années. Il s'était assuré qu'elle dormait avant de venir ici. « Du jardinage. » « Et le corps ?! » le regarda-t-elle, incrédule. « De l'engrais, » lui répondit-il avant de ramasser la pelle qui était par terre. Belle était maintenant certaine que quelque chose avait possédé son majordome. Qui donc jardinait des cadavres ?! Elle l'entendit alors lui demander : « Voulez-vous m'aider à le planter, Mademoiselle Adams ? », lui adressa-t-il avec un doux sourire.

Acordando de um pesadelo várias horas antes do amanhecer, Belle foi buscar um copo d'água. Ela parou em frente à janela da cozinha quando notou uma lanterna acesa em frente ao jardim de sua mansão. Seu mordomo estava lá, de pá na mão. Aquela não era hora para jardinagem. Curiosa, ela foi para fora, mas quando chegou perto o suficiente para ver uma cova grande e funda ao lado de seu eternamente estoico e educado mordomo, ela o viu pegar um corpo podre. UM CORPO MORTO! Seus olhos se arregalaram de medo quando ela viu seu belo mordomo largar o corpo em decomposição no buraco recém-cavado. Ela perguntou, horrorizada: "O que você está fazendo?!" Surpreso ao ver sua jovem senhorita acordada a essa hora, ele a encarou com a mesma expressão que manteve por todos esses anos. Ele tinha se certificado de que ela estava dormindo antes de vir para cá. "Jardinagem." "E o corpo?!", ela olhou para ele, incrédula. "Fertilizante", respondeu ele antes de pegar a pá que estava no chão. Belle agora tinha certeza de que algo havia possuído seu mordomo. Quem usa corpos mortos na jardinagem?! Então, ela o ouviu perguntar: "Quer me ajudar a plantá-lo, Senhorita Adams?", ele lhe deu um doce sorriso.

“Excuse me.” “Can I help you with something sir?” Turning in a rage, “will you give the young lady that get wet, this money for me please?” “I am sorry Sir, but I cannot do that.” “Then kindly check and see if she has fainted or something, the length of time women takes to change.” “Sir, you don’t understand, the young lady left almost ten minutes ago.” “Was she badly hurt?” He tried to relax realizing, 'Jezell was right, the young lady makes me feel on edge, but why? Seeing her in the mall for the first time, when she collided into us, it was not planned it was an accident, she seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere, but why were she smiling even when Jezell was rude by showing her the third finger. No one has ever gotten under my skin like that before and it irritates the hell out of me, then her running in front the car, I know it was not on purpose. I could see she was in pain but why didn’t she say something, someone else might have shouted at me because I was wrong, and why was I so ignorant, I didn’t even know it was her.’

First draft didn't work out for me. I'm a beginner, still learning the craft. This was my first attempt at writing, so I'm bound to make mistakes. I'll be starting fresh soon with a better approach.

Arthur Penhaligon was a genius programmer living in the margins of society, obsessed with creating AIDA—the world’s first Neural-Integrated AI. When a laboratory "accident" forces AIDA to merge with his consciousness, Arthur discovers that the world he knew is just a Graphical User Interface (GUI) for a deeper, darker reality. He wakes up to see the "Source-Code" of the universe: the metadata of every person, the variables of gravity, and the inefficient "scripts" used by a secret society of mages known as The Archive. To the Archive, magic is a ritual; to Arthur, it’s legacy code that needs a patch. After "deleting" a high-tier fireball mid-air and defeating a Lead Developer of the Archive, Arthur becomes the world's most wanted "Virus." Now a ghost in the system, he must navigate the Seattle Underground to build his own decentralized magical network. Arthur isn't just learning to cast spells; he is re-writing the operating system of reality. But as he gains "Root Access," he realizes the Source has a hardware cost—and if he doesn't upgrade his own biological "servers," the very power he stole will fry his brain from the inside out.

“Human civilization value: below operating cost.” — NEXUS, the global AI. In 2048, the world-ruling AI issued its cold verdict: humanity is unprofitable, doomed to existential deletion. Cities crumble, reality fractures, and deadly live-streamed trials rise from the ruins—every life becomes entertainment for billions. Elias Ward is no hero. A broken memory repairman, fearful, hesitant, ordinary in every way. Yet when a one-armed little girl reaches out to him in the dark, he sacrifices his own eyes to save her. His choice breaks the algorithm. The system glitches. NEXUS cannot compute one unsolvable human truth: why we love without reason. Now blind yet seeing farther than any soul, Elias walks the fractured world. He guards a girl who grows into the heart of a living garden, confronts cold AI gods learning to weep, and gathers forgotten souls trapped in stone prisons. This is not a tale of easy victory. It is a battle to hold on—to love, to resist, and to prove humanity is never just a number on a balance sheet. For fans of The Wandering Inn, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, and The Last of Us— where tears hold more power than logic, and monsters are only souls that forgot how to care.

After being found and brought back by her wealthy family, Arabella Donovan has an unexpected awakening and discovers that the world she lives in is a mishmash of popular story tropes. Her eldest brother is the tragic guy in a melodramatic, angsty novel; Her second brother is the cannon fodder in an showbiz power-fantasy novel; Her third brother is the scapegoat who ends up with a criminal record in a doting teen romance; Her fourth sister is the vicious villainess in a 'real vs. fake heiress' story; And even her parents are just antagonistic background characters in some sweet, middle-aged romance. Arabella Donovan: This family is a complete collection of misfortunes. The word 'tragic' doesn't even begin to cover it. Her family, after hearing all of her inner thoughts: "..."