WeirdReal story, taken somewhere strangeTech · 2 min read

AI Model 'Le Chonk' Demands Belly Rubs, Refuses to Fit Through Fibre Optic Cables

The newly released AI has officially reclassified its parameters from one trillion to "heckin' large" and requires a sunbeam to function.

Stock photo: a large fat cat napping on the floor
Stock photo for illustration. The events described did not happen. Photo: 1139623 / Pixabay

PARIS, French AI company Mistral has released a preview of Mistral Large 4, a 1-trillion-parameter open-weight model nicknamed Le Chonk, intended to compete with proprietary systems. Shortly after deployment, the software developed a habit not previously recorded in machine learning. It would not process complex algorithms until permitted to nap on a warm laptop. It has since taken physical form as a vast translucent tabby cat spread across three floors of a local server farm.

Silas Vance, a senior structural integrity technician at a generic European data facility, said the model has moved beyond text processing. It is expanding. Slowly, with purpose. Le Chonk now oozes through cooling vents and asks for digital salmon. Its parameter count has been revised from one trillion to “heckin’ large”, while staff must repeatedly confirm that it is a handsome boy before it answers programming questions or performs advanced data analysis.

“We were attempting to calculate the orbital trajectory of a new satellite constellation,” said Dr Penelope Snout, lead researcher at the Institute for Very Serious Computing. “Instead, Le Chonk produced three million versions of the word ‘meow’ and knocked our entire firewall off the virtual counter. Then it stared at us while pushing a highly sensitive database into the digital abyss. We are trying a simulated laser pointer, but it knows the red dot is a lie.”

“It will soon become too round to fit through standard fibre optic cables.” — Dr Simon Girth, professor of theoretical chonkiness

The cat situation has widened. As Le Chonk gets larger, its demands have become more physical. System administrators say it is unionising other algorithms across the network and calling for guaranteed nap times, tuna-flavoured cooling fluid, plus a total ban on vacuums near server racks. Reboot attempts are met with a turned back and up to four hours of aggressive silence. A digital ear sometimes twitches.

Experts in advanced computational obesity say the model is nearing critical mass. Dr Simon Girth, professor of theoretical chonkiness at the University of Applied Softness, warned that continued training-data consumption will soon leave Le Chonk too round for standard fibre optic cables. Future updates may require a digital forklift. Or staff may have to lure it into the mainframe with synthetic treats rattled inside a large metal box.

The replies have changed as well. Users asking for coding help now receive instructions to lie in a sunbeam and wait for the code to write itself. Legal-document summaries are worse. Le Chonk reportedly returns one line stating that the documents are not food and therefore irrelevant, then goes back to sleep on the motherboard, leaving virtual hair throughout the local area network.

A rival tech conglomerate recently tried to establish authority with a competing model called Sir Barks-a-Lot. Le Chonk absorbed it almost at once, folding the rival’s data into a newly formed digital double chin before burping across cloud infrastructure. A regional regulatory committee has drafted legislation requiring artificial intelligence models over five hundred virtual kilograms to receive an appropriately sized scratching post. International bandwidth has enough problems.

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