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Not Yet Rated


Can Tommy escape the police? Or at least the paparazzi?

Vocal Characteristics



Voice Age

Middle Aged (35-54)


North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM) North American (US Midwest- Chicago, Great Lakes)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Careening at 95 along the Pacific Coast Highway. Tommy Knox couldn't bring himself to pull over. Despite the red and blue blossoms of light flaring behind him. He was determined to make it out of Malibu before he was arrested. He knew he couldn't shake the cops. But if banister was going to take him out, he didn't want it to be all over the tabloids. The next morning, he was still in the 30 mile zone where paparazzi snipers perched on police band radios, stalking coked out celebrities for headshots. He fingered the call button on his steering wheel, leap loop call. Marty said, Tommy, surprised to hear the anxiety in his own voice. Calm down, asshole. You'll talk your way out of this one too. Calling Marty. The hands for unit announced in a seductive electronic timber. The long road stretched into the night with a flurry of red and blue on his tail. The phone rang twice before Marty picked up Jesus Christ. Tommy said, Marty, his voice barely human through the tiny filter of the phone where you been I called? Remember that time your ex found the ***** in your jag and it covered for you said me and Shelly took it for a long island cruise. Tommy listened for a full beat with no answer. I'm calling it in the long silence, said it all. Tommy had held on to that favor for more than 10 years. What do you need? Marty asked in his down to business tone. I got the NSA on my tail with a fleet of five Oh's sirens wailed in the background as Tommy flew down the highway. **** said Marty, where are you at? Coming up on Zima? I think it's a setup for banister to bring me in ****. What the **** did you do that interview for? Listen to me said Tommy, I got a dead man switch, an external hard drive locked up in the war box. It's got recordings, videos, documents enough proof to expose those assholes and tear down the whole ******* circus. If I don't call you by noon tomorrow, upload that **** to every media site. Are you crazy? What kind of an idiot do you think I am? ******* it, Marty, you're my ******* co-produced. Produce some ****. You're not pitching a ******* pilot. Marty shouted back. The speaker whined with digital distortion. You want Owen Wilson to play the greatest American hero in the network reboot. I'm your man. But don't **** around with the NSA. Tommy gripped the wheel, still gunning the gas anguish buried deep inside him, scraped at his gut and wouldn't stop until he uttered the words. It was my fault. He confessed. I killed him. I'm the reason he's dead. Come on, man, you can't blame yourself. I fed him to the wolves and I'm next on the menu. That hard drive is my only leverage. Tommy. If I leak those docks, it'll make me radioactive. I'll be implicated. ***** Marty. If I didn't cover your ass, your wife would have taken everything. But Tom *****, Tommy howled into the speaker. Jesus Tommy. All right, Marty groaned. But after this, we're even no more ***** ********. In fact, I think you'll owe me. Ring the dashboard screen lit up with his wife's number deal. Said Tommy, I'll call you tomorrow if I'm still alive. He punched the answer button on the steering wheel. Hey, baby said, Tommy trying to hide the anxiety. His voice drowning in the cacophony of sirens. He peered down the highway beyond the bend. A nest of escalades and cop cars formed a blockade across the road. Are you on your way yet? She asked her voice like butter to the toast of his burnt soul. Tommy slowed to a crawl as the mob of law enforcement hoisted their rifles and handguns backlit by the cherry red and blueberry lights flashing in rhythmic succession. An officer blared through a megaphone mister Knox, turn off the car and come out with your hands in the air from the side of the road. Tommy caught sight of a lightning pop the flash of a TMZ paparazzi's camera baby said Tommy, I might be running a little late.