Fun, Suspenseful Narrator
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Scott ran his hand over his scalp. His skin was warm. He left his baseball cap in the car, imagining this task before I would take less than a minute. But based on the thin film of sweat forming on his bare head, he must have been standing in front of his bosses fancy house for closer to 10 minutes. How could 10 minutes of past he felt the heat from his head transferred to his Palmas? He looked down at the pool of liquid at his feet. Do not move! The baritone voice filtered through. A speaker was forceful. In severe, Scott started a turn phrase. He froze his left hand in midair above his head, His right hand holding the bottle of water remained to decide he'd heard a siren earlier and wondered what crime had been committed, but now made the connection. The siren had been headed to where he waas. He waited. He heard a car door open and slam, followed by another open and slam footsteps up the driveway. He didn't want to move his head, partly out of a fear of getting shot, but mostly because he was good at taking direction and had been told the freeze, although his eyes were peripherally scanning his environment. In front of him was the large, hand carved door flanking the door were matching manicured bushes in cobalt ceramic pots. Further to his right by the side of the house. He caught sight of two men gardeners based on their sweaty T shirts. Large brim hats believe blower peeking around and watching the action. They dipped back when he made eye contact with him. He scanned left and saw nothing but the White House and a large hydrangea bush that was blossoming blue. He read. The color of the blossoms was based on the amount of aluminum in the soil. Useless information as he doubted he was being taken down by a band of demanding horticulturalists. He presumed the men behind him for cops, and this would be sorted out with a question or two. One set of footprints told him one person was approaching unless one cop was carrying the other cop. Scott almost laughed out loud of this image, the footsteps in the sand thing when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you. He felt both comforted and irreverent, imagining one cop carrying the other drop the bottle. The voice was still allowed but no longer distorted as the guy was now standing, Ah, few feet behind him.