The Spy Who Couldn't Count by Michael N. Wilton
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (England - Cockney, Estuary, East End) British (England - Yorkshire & Humber) British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
It may be of some consolation to those who were not particularly bright at school that there are others in the same boat who do not appear to have suffered unduly from the experience. But anyone like Jip, who had the misfortune to be educated at what Lincoln County grammar was not expected to show any evidence of intellectual output. They were simply thick as planks and quite proud of it. Although the headmaster talked expansively about what Lincoln's longer and glorious history at the drop of a hat and constantly referred to the string of famous old boys who were to be found listed on the honours board in the Great Hall, he was always coy about his other former pupils, who exercised more unusual talents, such as robbing banks or selling London Bridge to trusting American tourists. Despite their not unexpectedly low exam results every year, the school and a certain fashionable notoriety as the worst school in the Southeast and parents like to boast about their school days there, how awful it had bean, what had happened to that bounder? What's his name, who pulled off that bank robbery and ended up in South America or somewhere None of them would, of course, and met even privately to themselves that school had been a complete waste of time and that the chances of any of them getting on in the world or winning any sort of public recognition for their service were remote in the extreme. That was before anyone heard of gyp. Not that Jeff had any idea of making a name for himself. With a name like Jefferson, you'll pat bottom. He felt he had already being burdened with more than his fair share of bad luck, which explains how he accepted his nickname so readily in the first place. The simple explanation is that whereas most of the other city school couldn't think gyp couldn't count, he had never been able to, and as far as he could see, he never would. Which may explain why he ended up working for the civil service when his father, George, heard about it. He simply couldn't contain himself and roared with laughter. You in the civil service, he gasped. You've got to be joking. What sort of working you do in there? Gyp pulled us his nose. In some embarrassment, statistics statistics choked his father with rising disbelief. What kind? For Pete's sake, you can't even add two and two together. Births, marriages and deaths, that sort of thing. The news proved too much for his father. He looked around the room waiting for someone to tell him it wasn't true, then collapsed in his chair, wheezing with laughter. He rocked backwards and forwards, his face, turning purple until it looked as if he was going to have a seizure. And for a moment, gyp thought he would have to revise his mortality statistics for England and Wales mode. His father called out weekly at last, wiping his eyes and making his way blindly to the kitchen to seek out an appreciative audience. Listen to this basic coca. Do you know what your son has gone and done this time? They've made him a civil servant is the one they're relying on to tell him how many people we've got in the country. Blimey, I don't know why they don't get him to counsel the number of civil servants there are. We need deep in them already. Gyp tried not to listen and push the cat away moodily. It's all right for you, Rosie, he groaned. hearing a burst of muffled laughter in the other room. All you do is feed your face all day. You don't have to add up columns and columns of perishing figures until your eyes pop out. Rosie stretched herself languidly and jumped on his lap, demanding instant attention. Give over Rosie. He shut her off again, wondering vaguely wise mother can call her pets un flowery names like anyone else A mentally kicked himself for letting slip about his job. He wished he never mentioned it.