British Male and female in a car scene, charming . Engaging to sarcastic narration.
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC) North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Sarah Marshall clambered into the back of a taxi on the west side of Golden Square. Farrington Road, please. The driver turned round and said, as he had 100 times before. Before I take you, you ought know I'm not a licensed taxi driver. I'm Father Frank Dempsey, Parish priest of ST Thomas's and Wellstone. I'm happy to take you to Farron in road if you wouldn't mind leaving a small donation in the box there strictly voluntary, the driver gestured towards where the meter would normally have been. Toe a collection box bolted securely to the floor. You are fully insured. But if you want to get out and held a proper taxi, I quite understand, he told her. No, Sarah didn't get out. Nobody ever did. It crossed her mind that Father Dempsey might be a serial rapist, but then so might anyone. If you can get me to Farrington Road in 10 minutes, I don't care if you're the Archbishop of Canterbury. Frank smiled at her and headed out to Regent Street. Sarah simply stared at him. People always did. Ah, priest driving a taxi. Well, wouldn't you stare? But Sarah was thinking God, what? Ah handsome man. What the **** is he? A priest? What a terrible waste. He reminded her of pictures of Dean Martin in his rat pack days. Look, I know everyone must ask you this, but well, this taxi. Why? The taxi was left to me by a parishioner. I couldn't bear to sell it, so I thought I put it to good use. It's a fantastic way of raising money. The church and parish cost an awful lot to maintain. Frank had given this stick hundreds of times before, but today was different. God help me. He thought and meant it. Of course, priests are Onley human. You get used to the vow of celibacy. In every parish where Frank had worked, there had been attractive women. Some seem to have been planted like landmines to test the strength of his vows. One or two members of the Young Wives Guild had been particulary early, hard to resist devout Catholics, ostensibly but quite taken with the idea of seducing a handsome young priest. Today was different from where he was sitting. Sarah Marshall was vow breaking gorgeous her wide, generous mouth occupied center stage in the rear view mirror and it was still asking him questions. So you're not like a minicab firm. You don't take telephone bookings. Frank didn't it? Never did, but decided to institute a dramatic change in company policy. Yeah, sometimes he lied. Why? Well, I've got to fly upto Edinburgh next week on Lee for the day, and I've got to be at Heathrow for 7. 15. So I was wondering, you know, I'd rather give the money to your church than to some dodgy cab firm.