3 characters + narrator in comedy of Hare tricking Tortoise into a Do-Over
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
enough, Mr. T demanded. I'll do it. I'll give you a rematch. Mr. H popped his head up. You well, How? God bless you. You don't have such a hard shell after all, you big lug. He sprang from his chair, ran to the door and opened it shouting shallow! We're on. He darted about the room. Oh, so much to do. So much to do so when is always going to happen? Mr. T inquired When? Why? Right now? Of course. They're all on their way. My family, the media, the Nestle people. Whoa! Mr. T protested. Did you just say the Nestle people? What? Oh, did I, Mr Age sprinted back to the door. Shamo, he shouted, and he began changing into his running gear. So that's what this is all about? Money? Why, you? Fine, Mr H confessed. It's true. I admit it. Do you have any idea how many endorsements I've lost in this debacle? Nestle Quik alone cost me upon a foot. He checked his look in the mirror. Cast that no talent bucktooth hack over me, will they? He stared at his image and held his head high. Why? I was the original Harvey you still don't get it? Mr. T said he set his sights on a huge potted fern standing next to the door and began journeying toward it. You'll never learn. Will you flow? Mr. H again shouted and turned back to his opponent. Get what? All right, Slow but steady moral of the story. Blah blah blah. He took one last look in the mirror, wiped respect from his teeth and gave himself Ah, haughty grin. Things were going to be different for you from now on. Each old pal Mr T continued his pilgrimage to the doorway. Haven't changed a bit. Money still talks and Calpis walk, baby, you better believe it! Mr. H exclaimed as he winked at himself and called yet again to his butler. Oh, where is that damn turtle? Slow, Mo No need to bother. I am leaving. Good day, Mr H. Let this be the last time we see each other. What? No, you can't go. You said I could have a rematch. You said so. You promised. He turned from the mirror toe beat Mr T to the door. Oh, you're not getting away. Not gonna happen, Pokey and you can win this time because I'm wide awake. You, you camera reject Mr Age made one last leap ahead of Mr T and a reached out to lock the door. Justice Shamo opened it. The door hit Mr H Square in the noggin and he fell to the floor, knocked unconscious. You called for me, Mr H. Shamo said, finally arriving at the doorway, the tortoise stopped to acknowledge his napping rival did to talk about deja vu. He stepped up onto the snoring hair, climbed into the house plant and nodded back to the butler. Well, my good man, Thank you for your hospitality. You make a mean cage and blade of grass. And now I am going home. Mr. T then nestled himself into the fern, slipped on his night mask and pulled his head into his shell the end