Audiobook narration
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I'm telling you, he's doing something unnatural to it. It's a junction box, Mrs McGrath. What does that have to do with anything? It doesn't mean that he can't be putting it to a wicked end. Mrs. McGrath stick remained firmly planted in the gap between Julie's front door and the jamb. While some people acquire the art of being a nuisance, Julie was sure that Mrs McGrath had been born a master. She never referred to Julie by name, nor was there any preamble of pleasantries. Each time she knocked on the door, she would launch into her newest request as if they were continuing their previous conversation. What is it that you think he's doing? Judy glanced at her watch for the seventh or eighth time. She really should have known by now that her neighbour wasn't one for subtleties. If Julie wanted to impress that, she was in a hurry. She'd need to write it on her hand and slap it across the old dears face. Do I look like Alexander Graham Bell to you? I haven't a focus what he's doing, but I know wrong when I see it, she turned on the spot to face the supposed villain and near shouted. But that man is wrong. It may have been Julie's imagination, but the man who had been working at the junction box on the other side of the road for about 30 minutes now appeared to tense his back. Perhaps he could feel the glare of an increasingly agitated Septa Jin Aryan bearing through his cheap grain it jumper as he turned to face Julie again. Mrs McGrath's eyes lingered on the recycling box, full of empties of the cheap supermarket plonk. Julie wasn't sure if it was a scene that was unfolding on her doorstep or the shame of her over indulgence, but she began to blush. Okay, Mrs McGrath, there's no need to shout. That's the problem with your generation. You never want to show it about anything. If good folks stand idle, then we're only a hope. Skipping a jump from Hitler being in number 10 again, I don't think that's how it happened is all the bloody same to me. I am Scottish. Julie thought about explaining that Scotland had in fact played as much of a role in the Second World War is England. But seeing as Mrs McGrath had apparently lived in an alternate history where the furor and the British prime minister were one and the same person. It didn't feel entirely relevant as ever, Mrs. My grass appearance was slightly dishevelled in the style of Her Majesty. During her visits, a bowel moral, her hair was entombed by a red patterned necker chief. The covering had been dawned with such haste that mad wisps of grey blonde hair escaped from its front. Her eyes had the haunted quality of a soldier who had spent a night on watch, waiting for some inevitable hammer of doom to drop. I don't understand what you want me to do about it. What could a stubby thing like you do about it? I want to use your phone. My phone? Yes, your phone. Well, howdy out fully a woman, she bustled forward. Julie only relented when the pair had been standing nose to nose for several seconds on DH. It had become clear that the intel Oprah wasn't going to relent with the rubber grip at the end, nearly entirely worn away, the bottom of Mrs McGrath stick made a nasty scratching noise against the tiles. With every other step Why can't you use your own phone? Julie remained standing next to the open door, hoping that her guest would take the hint that this wasn't an open ended visit. It's not been working. It's not been working. Have you let anyone know I would I do that when I don't have a phone? Mrs. McGrath asked, becoming exasperated about you would have sent them a letter playing right into their hands. Her eyes darted around the hall, looking for a handset. After several seconds of not succeeding, she gave Julia pointed. Look. When this didn't work, she gestured with her hands, hoping to reiterate the pressing nature off the situation they found themselves in. Julie pointed to the Cordless device on the small table near the door, and Mrs McGrath snatched it up for the love of Christ. What's this abomination? She put it to her air and took it away again twice in quick succession. Well, how do you get a tone frustrated with herself for again giving up ground so
Tags
Characters, Everyman, Storyteller, Aged, Amusing, Believable, Funny, Warm, Personable, British (General)