Retail sample from Book 2 of the 'Frank 'n Stan series
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Senior (55+)Accents
British (England - Liverpool, Manchester, Lancashire, Cheshire) British (General) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
it was each to their own. But the thought of watching tennis on centre cord sitting in front of the Taj Mahal, or even looking on in wonderment of the scale of the Great Wall of China was not compelling in the slightest why. Because it wasn't the TT races. It was impossible to articulate or convey that the T G wasn't just about racing. It wass truly a way of life from the second they returned home. It was all they could talk about, counting down the days until they could return once more, the thought of travelling across the world to watch a sporting event would once have sounded like lunacy. But now they could understand were they would surely do exactly the same if not for their already close proximity in the sense of brotherhood wasn't confined only to the island for those two weeks each year. Either Frank and Stan would like twin boys wearing their Isle of Man T shirts at home at every opportunity. If you want the shirt of your local football team, chances are you'd be approached by someone who wanted either to kiss you or not the living daylights out ofyou depending on where their loyalties lay. The TT engendered a different sort of reaction, however. One. It was entirely positive. Strangers would see Frank and stands a tyre on would approach them, eager to talk about their own previous TT experience. Or they'd have a thirst for knowledge since they planned their first trip. I were desperate to get some foresight into whether what they'd heard could be true, that there was simply nothing better on Earth. And the only way to experience it was for yourself. Once experienced, you see those two on the deck of the ferry waving us the landscape of the Isle of Man slowly disappeared from you for at least another year on these grown men would be in tears. He was then that they had a chance to reflect on what they just lived through. Frank knew that the thought of anywhere else for Item number two on his bucket list was sheer lunacy. It would have been the ultimate anti climax. There was nowhere else he was going. He was back to the place he loved. Presently, Franken Standard to replace the luxurious mode of travel from the day before for a slightly more humble, rented, feared 500. It was sad to say goodbye to the chauffeur driven limousine, but they were able to console themselves with the thought of the envoys dropping through Rodney Frank's letter box. How the devil could we be lost? Ask Stan with his head out of the window like an excitable dog lapping up the breeze. It must be somewhere around there. As for Frank, he was unflappable at present. After all, as far as the drives in the country go, this was pretty special. The last visit was during the mayhem of the TT festival. So to see this sedate island in rather more relaxed manner, wass well appreciated. And that's exactly what Frank was doing. Appreciating, he drank in every glorious seconds. They negotiated narrow country roads, taking the time to exchange pleasantries with those whose powers they crossed. Frank did take a moment from his cultural Dalian's to remind Stan of the fact that it was stand himself who had gone of the directions to take them to Germany. Ah, replied Stan, bringing his head back inside for a moment. The soul be Glen Hotel, he said. In a moment of recollection. Frank slowed, awaiting further instruction. Yes, he prodded when instruction was not forthcoming. Turn left or idea. Directed Stan. Yes, left, the fellow said. I'm sure of it. You could have told me that before I had already gone. Strike Tuft, Frank started to say. But then he smiled again, relaxing. There was no rush. It was a perfectly agreeable drive, after all. Never mind, he said. We'll get there. In the end, I think I can hear engines into Stan with his ears moving in all directions in the attempt to triangulate the noise. Yes, young Frank, it must be this way. Laid on and don't spare the Aussies. As money all seizes this little fear can muster. Mister was Frank's, Giddy replied.