AUDIOBOOK READ Real person Conversational Believable Informative Voice
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Senior (55+)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
at one scene, one the storyteller thought to himself and couldn't hold back a dizzying rush of anticipation. The truth was that ordinary people committed perfect crimes and perfect murders all the time. But you didn't hear about it for the simple reason that killers never got caught. And neither would he. Of course, that was a given in the storey, he was about to tell, which didn't mean that today wasn't nerve wracking. Actually, this was the most intense moment in the past couple of insane years for him. He was ready to kill somebody, a complete stranger, and he'd figured out the New York City was the right place for his first. It almost happened just outside the basement restroom in Bloomingdale's. Buddy didn't feel right about the location too crowded even 1/2 past 10 in the morning. Too noisy and yet not noisy enough to provide the proper distraction class. He didn't like the idea of trying to escape onto the unfamiliar territory of Lexington Avenue, or especially down the claustrophobic I tr subway tunnels. When it felt right, he'd know it and act accordingly. So the storyteller moved on and decided to catch a flick of the sudden theatre on his 57 street, a funky run down place that had obviously seen better days. Maybe this was a good place for a murder. He liked the irony, even if he was the only one who got it. Yes. Maybe this was going to work out great, he thought. As he sat in one of the two small auditoriums inside, he began to watch Kill Bill, Volume two with seven other Tarantino aficionados. Which one of these unsuspecting people would be his victim? You, you, you There the storyteller spun the tail inside his head. Turned out it was a bearded wonder who got up about halfway through the movie just after almost Thurman was buried alive. Jesus, who could walk out like classic sign, duty bound. He followed a couple of seconds behind out into the dingy hall, then into the men's room, which was located in a theatre, too. He was actually shaking. Now was this it? His moment, his first murder, the beginning of everything he dreamed off a month Make that years. He was pretty much on order pilot trying not to think about anything except doing this right then getting in and out of the movie theatre without anybody noticing his face or very much else about him. The bearded guy was standing at the urinal, which was kind of good news. Actually. That shot was nicely framed and art directed wrinkle grungy black T shirt that said, My You film school with the clap sticks logo on the back reminded him of a character out of Daniel Close comic book on that graphic **** was hot right now and action, he said. Then he shot the poor bearded loser in the back of the head, watched him drop like a heavy sank that the bathroom floor lie there. Nothing moving. The blast rolled through his head in the tower room louder than he dreamed it would be. Hey, what a. He heard the storey tell the world around, as if there was an audience watching him in the men's room. Two guys from the sudden theatre crew had ended behind him. They must have been curious about the noise. And how much are they saying? Heart is a heart attack? He blurted out, and tried to make it sound amusing. Man just fell over the urinal. Help me get him up. Poor guy's bleeding. No panic, no effect, No second thoughts whatsoever. Everything was pure instinct now, right? Wrong or indifferent. He raised his gun and shot both theatre workers as they stood waylaid and doggie at the door. He shot them again when they were down on the floor. Just to be careful, Professional. And now he was really shaking legs like Jell O, but trying to walk very calmly out of the men's room, Then out of the Sun Theatre onto 57th heading east on foot. Everything outside feeling completely unreal and otherworldly. Everything so bright and brassy he done it. He killed three people instead of just won his 1st 3 murders. It was just practise. But he done it. And you know what? He could do it again. Practise makes perfect. The storyteller whispered under his breath as he hurried toward his car. His getaway car. Right. God, this was the best feeling of his life. Of course, I didn't say much for his life up to now. Now did it. But watch out from here on, just watch out for Mary Mary. Quite contrary. Of course, he was the only one who got that so far anyway,