Narration Voicereel
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
There was a police car parked outside from his second floor window. Alex could see the black I. D. Number on the roof and the caps of the two men who was standing in front of the door. The porch light went on, and at the same time the door opened. Mrs. Ryder. No, I'm the housekeeper. What is it? What's happened? This is the home of Mr Ian Rider. Yes, I wonder if we could come in and Alex already knew. He knew from the way the police stood there, awkward and unhappy. But he also knew from the tone of their voices, funeral voices. That was how he would describe them later, the sort of voices people use when they come to tell you that someone close to you has died for one week. Only manufacturing groups recently appointed a new chief executive. Stephen will work undercover alongside his frontline employees on the workshop floor. The lads don't realise that Steven is directly responsible for slashing the budgets, including their £39 bonus, and they would be even more outraged to find. But it's his new efficiency drive that also means that had their lunch break cook toe half an hour. Although the lunch break is still long enough for Steven to put his cover storey to the test, will the ordinary day workers say something they might regret to the big man upstairs or, well, Stephen here some home truths and confront the consequences of his decisions. At noon Wednesday, July 26th window panes in the small mountain towns of Sevier County, Tennessee, were rattled by the shock and faint thunder of a distant explosion rolling down the northwest slopes of the Great Smokies. The explosion came from the general direction of the closely guarded Airforce Experimental station in the forest 10 miles northwest of Elk, Mont. Said the Air Force Office of Public Information. No comment that evening. Amateur astronomers in Omaha, Nebraska, on Glenwood, Iowa, reported independently the Dis spec had crossed the face of the full moon. At 9:57 p.m. There was a flurry of excitement on the news wires. Astronomers at the major North American Observatory's denied that they had seen it. They lied. Streaker was a mixed up kind of dog. You can see from her thin body and powerful legs that she's got a lot of Greyhound blood in her, along with quite a bit of Ferrari and a large chunk of whirlwind. Nobody in our family likes walking her, and this is hardly surprising streak again. Out accelerator torpedo. She can do not to 100 miles an hour in the blink of an eye, she's usually vanished over the far horizon long before you have time to yell streak. A dad refuses to walk her point blank. I've got Burke. Ache is his usual excuse, though, how this stops him from walking. I really haven't a clue. I've tried excuses myself, but Mum just gives me a chilly glare and hands me the dog lead. She'll do anything to get out of walking streaker, too, and that's how the whole thing started.