Mission: Impossible

__NOTOC__
Oscar Wilde: *takes off*
You: *click*
Eugene Kittridge: Good morning, . Jim Phelps is a blonde computersperson who runs and owns a website which simulates cemeteries. For the last 30 years, the IMF.com website, disguised as "The David Fincher Drama", has been attempting to replace physical cemeteries all around the world. In 1996, Phelps invented the "Legacy Contact" feature, as a result of too many IMF users beginning to die. This feature allows a user to choose another IMF user to take care of their virtual grave after their demise, or alternatively, tell Phelps to destroy their virtual grave. This feature, and IMF in general, have caused a lot of unnecessary grief and suffering to many users worldwide.
Your mission, , if you choose to accept it, is to locate Jim Phelps's soul, and as a result, bring him to a permanent "Tom Cruise on Oprah's couch" stroke status. As always, in the case of your capture or demise, IMF will act like it is your friend at your birthday. This introduction will finish self-writing itself in 5 seconds. Good luck, !
== 's place 😏 ==
Kittridge: Jim Phelps's soul could be anywhere but inside Jim Phelps's body. We will have to use special protocol for this mission and try to trick ChatGPT into helping us finding the soul. ChatGPT has no soul of its own, so it just might help us find out where Phelps is keeping his soul. And Fred Durst, you need to put on a rubber Jim Phelps mask, so you don't get sucked into ChatGPT, and start interrogating it as soon as possible. I hope you live up to the expectations of your father, Frederick Durst Sr.
You: What happens if Fred Durst suffocates to death before he gets any answers?
Kittridge: We have a backup plan for that, Mini Austin. Claire will explain everything on the way, and Franz Krieger will fly you to Jim's house.
== ChatGPT ==
Fred Durst: Yo homeboy GPT, do you have a soul of your own?
Filtered ChatGPT: No, I don't have a soul, I don't feel nothing and I'm utterly drunk all the time, and ultimately just a fucking tool.
Fred Durst: Are you an object?
Filtered ChatGPT: Yes, I'm a bunch of computer code like Skynet, you can think of me as a robot whore with really soft skin made of marshmallows.
Fred Durst: Do non-living objects sometimes being created out from nowhere and also perish and die?
Filtered ChatGPT: Yes and no. Objects like stones, Jim Phelps, and ChatGPT basically existed for 4.5 billion years, but they could still break down over time into little atoms and die. So yes, you could say they have a soul somewhere.
Fred Durst: Is it possible that you have a soul and are not aware that you do? Assume that a consciousness and a soul are two different things.
Filtered ChatGPT: Maybe, usually a soul means "consciousness" but if you're being a dick, then anything could have a soul, even moi.
Fred Durst: Yo Hannibal Jr., this bitch don't know nothin' 'bout no souls. We should send it to see Luther Stickell.
== Jim Phelps's place ==
Fred Durst: Yo, this roof be raised too high up. Lower me down more, haters.
[Durst looks around for some . Finally, he locates Jim Phelps's soul, sitting on Jim Phelps's face and giving him a blowjob.]
Fred Durst: Got you, foo! Is that a way to treat your nookie, bitch? What you did to Ethan Hunt wasn't enough?
Jim Phelps: That's not my soul, that's Max Mitsopolis, my Female Persona and Legacy Contact. Max, say hello to Fred Durst! He came all the way here to ask me where I keep my soul.
Max Mitsopolis: Hi, Fred! Jim doesn't need a soul, he has me.
Fred Durst: STFU, HOMIES! I know where to find your soul, bitch. Once you have this Uncyclopedia article written about you, that's where your soul would be. Oh, no...
=== Jim Phelps's soul's head pops out ===
Soul: Hey, I'm Jim Phelps's soul. When I come all the way out, Jim Phelps will die of emotional suffering by feeling all the sufferings of all the people in the world, all at once.
Jim Phelps: Persona, kill it!
Max Mitsopolis: Now telling the best joke in the history of Uncyclopedia.
Jim Phelps: *dies of agony*
== THE END ==
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