Liam Rosenior chewed up by BlueCo’s bizarre ChatGPT version of Chelsea

R un Liam, run. Don’t look back. Wrench off the hazmat suit. Scoot past the security gates where the guards are already writhing and frothing at the mouth. And exit the compound for good, ice-white trainers pounding the dirt track, designer hoodie flapping. For Liam Rosenior the urge now must be to...

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