Scott Thomas | Professional Voice Actor for Character

Script:
Here at Brantford Academy, you will obey the rules, said Mr. Seven, the headmaster. He was in his 60s, short, mostly bald, and almost absurdly thin. But yet there was nothing even remotely frail about the man. Though my parents and I were the only ones in his office, he spoke as if addressing an entire auditorium full of students. You will wake up every morning at 5.30 sharp. The concept of a snooze alarm does not exist here. Tardiness to any class will adversely affect your grade. All assignments must be turned in at the time they are due without exception. An A-level paper turned in late will receive an F. I raised my hand. Mr. Seven blinked with surprise, as if unaccustomed to such astounding rudeness during his speech. Yes, what if I'm sick? Students who are legitimately ill stay in the infirmary, and their classroom attendance requirements are determined on a case-by-case basis. While I can assure your parents that we provide excellent medical care, I can assure you, Mr. Fletcher, that feigning illness to get out of class is simply not possible. Your days of faking stomach pains to avoid taking a test are over. I've never done that. For a moment, I genuinely believed that Mr. Seven was going to slap me across the face. Mr. Fletcher, I realize that your parents are still here, but effective immediately, you are to follow the rules of conduct at Brantford Academy. And that means you will not interrupt when an adult is speaking. Is that perfectly clear? Yes, sir. He just meant that he doesn't fake being sick to get out of going to school, my mother explained. I was speaking hypothetically, said Mr. Seven. And many new students who are not used to being held to our high standards, or any standards in some instances, do attempt to use the infirmary as an escape from their responsibilities. So let me make this clear, it does not work. Your dormitory will have four boys to a room. The rules of conduct will be explained when you arrive there. Infractions will result in a loss of privileges, including but not limited to loss of free time, loss of mail privileges, both sending and receiving, and restrictions to the academy grounds on Saturdays. This will apply equally to all four boys in the room. So you are not merely responsible for your own behavior, but for the behavior of your roommates. Are there any questions? We had no questions. Mr. Seven looked directly at me. It is not standard policy to admit students after the term has begun, but we had a recent dismissal. I sincerely hope that making this exception will not prove to be a distraction.

Script:
There's a place you can go to, right down inside yourself, where nothing can hurt you. It's where you go when an IED takes your leg off, or when you're being raped. It's where you go when you're being tortured. And the more times you go there, the easier it becomes to visit, and the harder it becomes to leave. You can't hear anything, you can't see anything. Stuff's going on around you, but you're not part of it anymore. You don't even think, you just are. Sounds peaceful. It isn't. Because the one emotion you have left is fear. Simple animal fear. You're cowering and you know that it, the pain, the rapists, the torture, is right outside that mental door, waiting for you to come out. You haven't escaped. You've hidden. You only come out when the need to live, to carry on, outweighs the terror of facing your fear. And if it doesn't, if your fear is so strong it keeps winning out, then you just stay in there forever. I lay there for what felt like hours before I became aware of something. Out on the edges of my perception, I could still feel the ceiling and floor. Sometimes they were rock, sometimes they were planks of wood. But they were always hard. Now there was something else. Something soft that slipped between those hard walls, reached inside me and caressed my mind. A voice. Her voice. It was barely a whisper and I had to strain to hear. I couldn't leave my hiding place but I could climb up inside and listen. I had to know what she was saying. I was addicted to that voice. And I know that you're scared. I don't know what happened to you. I don't know what those bastards did to you over there but you're not there now. You're here with me and I'm going to get you through this because you've got me through so much. The voice died away and there was another noise, one that sent a stab of pain through me. Then she started speaking again. I get it, she said. I get it now. I've figured it out. I get why you can't risk going to jail, not even for a month. And I'm so, so sorry I pressed you. That noise again. The one that hurt me. I pulled myself a little higher so I could figure out what it was. Crying. My woman was crying.

Script:
Garrett and Hannah are coming with me. I don't want your mental illness anywhere around us. You're not going to visit us. You're not going to call us. You're not going to fucking exist for us. Do you understand? You can't take my kids away. When you took Garrett out there and let him go near that thing, you gave up all rights as a parent. You're out of the picture. I love you, but there's something hideous in your brain, and I'm taking our children far away from it. Toby shook his head. No. There's no way I'm letting you do that. You want a divorce? Fine. Bring me the papers. I'll sign whatever you want. Just don't take Garrett and Hannah away from me. This isn't your choice anymore. I'll fight it. The hell you will. You do one thing to stop me, and I'll tell everybody about your dearest, most darling friend. I'll hold a goddamn press conference. They'll tear those woods apart looking for that freak, and they'll blow him away. I'm not bluffing. There was a cruel edge to her voice now, almost sadistic. Please don't take them, he said in a soft voice. You're lucky I'm not calling the police right now. What you need to do is go out into the woods, put a bullet into that thing, and straighten your life out. Is that where you were all those times? Those hundreds of times? What's wrong with you? How can you not see the insanity of this? I do see it. Then why the hell are you bringing our son out there? Because he's our friend. Not anymore. We'll work the money and property out like civilized people, and you can say goodbye. But if you ever try to contact our kids, it's over. If you spent time with him, you'd understand. I can't help, Toby. Go to a hotel. I'll call you when we're ready to leave.

Script:
They walked into the bar, a jukebox played a country western song that immediately became George's least favorite song of all time. All of the stools at the bar were taken, though a couple of the booths in the back were unoccupied. There was no sign of Ivan. Now what, Lou asked, I guess we have a seat. They weaved through the crowd to the booth furthest in the back and sat down on the same bench. George brushed some ashes and a wet straw wrapper off the table, put a finger in his left ear to block out the hellish noise, then called Ivan. Are you there, Ivan asked. Yeah, where the hell are you? Making sure you're not setting a trap. We're not that clever. I see that, I'll be there in a minute. Ivan hung up. George tucked the phone back into his pocket. A waitress who was neither the appropriate age nor the appropriate body shape for her tight t-shirt walked over to their booth. What can I get you? Coke, said George. Diet, said Lou. The waitress gave them a look of mild disgust, as if they'd announced their intention to simultaneously urinate on the floor, then rolled her eyes and walked away. If you end up dying today, you'll wish you at least had a regular Coke, said George. If I live, I'm getting back in shape. Fair enough. Right after their drinks arrived, Ivan walked into the bar. He looked confident, fearless, arrogant, like a complete prick. He walked through the bar and sat down at their booth, then gestured to their drinks. Didn't you order me anything? No, said George, order your own drink. Did you bring the money? Yeah, let me see it. Lou took the briefcase off his lap and set it on the table. He kept it closed, as if worried that Ivan might make a sudden grab for it. Ivan nodded, open it. Lou popped open the lid. He held the briefcase open just long enough to give Ivan a glimpse of the cash inside, then closed it back up. Thank you, said Ivan. Now burn it. I beg your pardon. Take out a lighter and set the money on fire, right now. George gently kicked Lou under the table. They did not have an elaborate plan to trap Ivan. They tried to come up with one, but all of their ideas seemed like plans that would go terribly wrong, so they'd settled for the following scheme. If they decided that they had no other choice, George would give Lou the signal by gently kicking him under the table. At which point, they would pull out their guns and pump several rounds into Ivan's face. Hopefully, that would surprise and weaken him enough for them to throw the blanket with the silver rings over his head and drag him out to the cage. If he got a chance, Lou would also try to stab him. It was far from subtle, and it wasn't something they really wanted to do in front of a tavern full of witnesses, but they didn't have much of a choice at this point. They pulled out their guns.

Script:
Almost in unison the men pointed their guns at George and Lou. Without being asked, George and Lou put their three hands in the air. This is them, Mr. Dewey said to the old man. The old man nodded and slowly walked over to them. He was so unsteady on his feet that George worried he might fall over, and George wondered why he didn't have anybody assisting him. A pride thing, probably. The old man walked right up to George and looked at him closely, as if examining a horse. George almost made a smart-ass comment. Should I open my mouth so you can check out my teeth? But decided against it. He turned his attention to Lou and examined him just as closely. Then the old man nodded with satisfaction and took a step back. Yes, that's them. We are not here to con you, said Mr. Dewey. Of course not. That doesn't mean I shouldn't inspect them. We'll be off now. The old man turned and began to slowly walk away. Without looking back, he gestured for somebody to follow. So do we go with him, George asked. You do, said Mr. Dewey. Lou stays here. George shook his head. No way. Surely, you're not so stupid as to think you have a choice. We work as a team, George said, case closed. Not anymore. I'm not gonna leave him here so you can experiment on him. We'll do this together or not at all, Mr. Dewey laughed. Experiment on him. This isn't a Nazi death camp, George. But we can turn it into one if you want to make this difficult for us. The old man stopped walking, his shoulders slumped, and he turned around. I'll bring both of them. That wasn't the deal, said Mr. Dewey. We have a job to do. I'd rather not have it complicated by him being obstinate. He'll be a lot less obstinate after we cut his nose off, said Mr. Dewey. Break a couple of fingers, a little sandpaper on an eyeball. I think he'll cooperate just fine. You don't know me very well, said George, who hoped that this would not actually come down to lost noses, broken fingers, or sanded eyeballs. I'm taking them both, said the old man. There will be no further discussion. Mr. Dewey looked very much as if he wanted there to be further discussion, but he said nothing. Who was this old bastard?

Script:
The fruit has some type of healing power. I didn't realize it at first, but as I ate more and more of it over several months, I developed some type of immunity to injury. You said it yourself, Martin. You hit your head and hurt your arm, but after eating the fruit, you felt fine. Yeah, well, I didn't eat it over months, maybe only a couple of days or so. And I definitely still get hurt. Well, maybe you need to keep eating it. People at the restaurants only eat it when they go out, and only at a handful of restaurants, so that's pretty infrequent exposure for the patrons. I eat this stuff every day. Hell, I practically live in the greenhouse. I'm telling you, I fell off a ladder, hit my head, and a pair of shears went right through my arm. When I woke up, I was completely healed. You're scaring me, Andrew, Lori whimpered. Just stop it, okay? No one can heal that fast. I'm telling you, it's no joke. I jumped from the windmill at the farm, broke both legs, and they healed in a few minutes. It's real. A moment of silence passed between them. Okay, hotshot, challenged Martin. Do it again, but this time, I'll pick the spot. Andrew, no, cried Lori. It's fine, sis. Turning back to Martin, he opened his arms in a spread eagle and continued. Okay, pick a spot, Martin considered. All right, cut your cheek. Andrew looked around the restaurant and casually held up his napkin near his face, as if wiping his mouth. Hiding his cheek from the rest of the patrons, while still allowing Martin and Lori to see, he slowly picked up the knife, surveyed the restaurant, and then made a quick slash down his cheek. Gross, exclaimed Lori, covering her eyes. Open your eyes, sis. Again, no sign of the injury was visible. What the fuck, whispered Martin, staring at Andrew's cheek.

Script:
Mr. Dewey casually slipped a hand into the pocket of his coat. Tell me, how does it feel to be such a fire hazard? You practice that line on the way over? No, George, I did not. Mr. Dewey took out a lighter. Do you really think that now is the time to be disrespectful? My last memory of you is not going to be of you saying something clever. It's going to be of you shrieking in absolute agony while your body burns. Do you think you can be witty while your hair is on fire? George did not think he could be witty under those circumstances. He had no intention of leaving this world begging for his life. At the same time, there was no good reason to let Mr. Dewey light him up without finding out if his sincere apology might help. I'm sorry we messed up, George said. I'm not trying to offer excuses, but jobs go bad all the time, and this one involved a werewolf. If any job is going to go bad, it's going to be the one with the werewolf, right? Do you have any cloth, Mr. Dewey asked. What? You heard me. We've got towels in the bathroom. Mr. Dewey shook his head. Too soft. I just want to make sure I don't get gasoline on myself. He walked over to the kitchen sink, unspooled some paper towels, and wrapped them tightly around his fist. Then he punched George in the face, almost knocking the chair over. He unwrapped his fist and tossed the paper towels into the sink. The werewolf was in a cage, Mr. Dewey said. George's newly split lip felt like it had already been lit on fire. Yeah, yeah, he was. But we weren't given proof that he was a real werewolf. You didn't need proof. He was in a cage. All you had to do was not open the goddamn cage. I understand how it can seem like we were irresponsible, George admitted. But we didn't just open up the cage for kicks. Nobody told us, hey, don't get too close to the bars because he can change his human arm into a werewolf arm whenever he wants. I'm not saying that Lou and I didn't screw up, but the disaster would have been avoided if we'd have been given all the information up front. Are you blaming me, Mr. Dewey asked. George shook his head. I'm blaming Bateman, he's the one who briefed us. Throwing a dead man under the bus, very classy. It's the truth, said George. And it was, although George wouldn't have fallen into a deep moral quandary if it wasn't.

Script:
Introduction. Unscripted. Adjective. Not following a prepared script. Merriam-Webster Dictionary. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of entrepreneurship. It's a waking in the morning and pinching yourself black and blue. That OMG this is my life and it's freaking awesome. You live in your dream house but there's no mortgage, no alarm clock, no boss, no bills, no claims on the day's time other than what you choose. It's making more money before breakfast than you made for an entire week at your last job. It's a crazy expensive car parked in your garage, a victorious symbol that your dreams no longer sleep in fantasies but are awake with reality. Make no mistake, this life exists. I know because it's been mine for nearly 20 years. And in a few short years, it can be yours as well. That's right, you won't need five decades of thankless jobs, mind-numbing frugality, and patient investing with our trusted friends on Wall Street. Unfortunately, you've been scripted to believe that such a life is out of your reach or only possible for a certain type of person. Someone with a certain college degree, a certain amount of VC funding, or a certain contact list of connected friends from Stanford. I'm here to tell you that none of it's true. While I've been an entrepreneur most of my life, I'm no one special. You won't read about me over a tech crunch or in some Silicon Valley newsletter. While I've been an internet entrepreneur since the old, you've got mail, AOL days, I've never been funded by venture capitalists, I've never had a payroll with more than five people on it, and I've never studied computer science at school. Despite this, I've been able to create profitable businesses that create the type of unscripted life I've described above. We're talking about five- and six-figure monthly profits with valuations in the millions. Although I've had two successful exits, don't let that scare you. It's just a welcome, and sometimes unexpected, side effect of the process. Now, you probably noticed this book is long. I mean, like, super long. There's a reason for this. I'm not one of these book-a-month authors who writes about a trendy marketing tactic that becomes ineffectively overused within a year. I'm not an author who writes 200 pages of filler about one concept when only four paragraphs are enough. In other words, I didn't spend three years writing this book to enlarge my income streams. I wrote it to change your life. And in order to change your life, a lot needs to be said. Yes, this goes beyond starting a business and making some side cash. It's about reclaiming life and liberty through the pursuit of entrepreneurship. If you don't know, let me break it to you. Slavery still exists. Except today's contemporary slavery is called the script, an implied social contract whereas a gilded cage is exchanged for voluntary indebtedness and lifelong toil, sacrificed by a non-redeemable 50 years of Monday through Friday, an invisible servitude in which freedom is only promised by the arrival of life's fading twilight. Unscripted is your blueprint into an awakening of abundance, freedom, and happiness, a keystone to unleashing a life few dream of. In part one, I will identify the problem that has haunted you since you've been old enough to have a job. You have sensed it, felt it, and now you fear you're living it. In part two, I will expose the greatest con of the century and detail exactly how it has stolen your dreams, and if you allow it, it will steal your life. To defeat a thief, you have to understand the thief. In part three, I will unveil the high-definition vision of what is possible once your mind is free from the cultural doctrines ruling the game. In part four, the bulk of this book, I will reveal the definitive blueprint to unscripted entrepreneurship, a detailed framework that will show you how to start a business that doesn't just keep the bill-paying treadmill circulating. It breaks it, and then it changes your life forever. In part five, I will detail the greatest passive income system in existence where work becomes optional. Yep, you will learn how to never work another day in your life, where to find it, and how to get started immediately. If you haven't read my first book, The Millionaire Fastlane, don't worry. Unscripted stands alone. I wouldn't have published it if I didn't think it could change lives. Question is, will you allow it to change yours?

Script:
Many years ago, a pastor once asked me during a marriage counseling session if I thought that marriage was a 50-50 partnership. I said with confidence, it certainly is. He went on to explain to me that it wasn't, that it was a 100%, 100% partnership. I understood intellectually what he was trying to say, and I guess I agreed with his rationale. That wasn't good enough, though. It took me a long time and three marriages to finally learn it in my heart and to live by it. Elaine and I are a team. We're partners, but we're also human beings with faults, strengths, and weaknesses. We're all sinners. Watching Elaine suffer, day in and day out, was very difficult for me. I complained about the promessa. I complained about her pushing too hard, and I complained about not taking a day off. I've also bandaged her feet and massaged her feet. I've tried to be motivational. Just one more kilometer, darling, and we'll have a bed to lay in. It's all just part of a loving relationship. For anyone wanting to give the Camino a try, it's important to realize that it really is a personal experience. It's something that should probably be done solo if at all possible. It's not a vacation. It's not a race or a competition. It's going to bring out lots of hidden stuff, both good and bad, as the miles pass under your feet. If you're going to do the Camino as a couple, be prepared to experience a serious relationship building exercise. It's going to be a hardship on you physically and emotionally. You're walking long miles through often rugged terrain, up and down mountains in all kinds of weather. You don't always know where you're going to find your next meal or where you're going to lay your head for the night. Most of us don't know the language or the culture. Then there's siesta time. Just as we're finishing our day's walk and looking for food and rest, it seems like everything is closed. All of this brings out the best and worst in us. I guess that's why we do it. It's a huge learning exercise that pushes our individual limits. Walking it as a couple, the Camino amplifies those things you do well together, and it amplifies those things you do wrong, and then you work on them. We're only 20 kilometers outside of Santiago de Compostela, in the small town of Rua, on the outskirts of El Pedrozo. I can't believe it. We're one day away from walking into the cathedral in Santiago. I'm sitting by a fire in a beautiful albergue. We've just finished a nice dinner, and I've wrapped Elaine up in a couple of blankets as she tries to recuperate from the 28-kilometer day. It was below freezing as we started out this morning, but it warmed up to perfect walking conditions for our last big push. The variety of pilgrims around us has expanded to include the short-timers who have started at the minimum required distance of 100 kilometers, but surprisingly, the actual total numbers seems to have decreased compared to the crowds of just the other day. I don't know if it's because it's getting late in the season, or if people have just dropped out from injuries or exhaustion. Maybe they're taking cabs. Either way, we see fewer pilgrims now, and we have the trail to ourselves.

Script:
You weren't born to slave 9-to-5, Monday through Friday, pay bills and then die. When life's final moment arrives, what will your spirit sing? Regret and remorse? Or peace and happiness? Take a moment and forecast your life's trajectory to your deathbed. And be honest. Will you mourn lost time and the things you didn't do? Places you didn't see? Will your life review be all work and zero legacy? If your future forecast looks bleakly uninspiring and not worthy of your family's history books, you have a chance to change it. Right here and right now. Elderly people nearing the end of their lives often wish they could take a time machine back to their youth and chat with their younger selves. Once there, they would tell their younger selves their life wisdom and regretful warnings that only decades of experience could reveal. By changing the past, they hope to change the future, which has become today. Sadly, what usually remains is a life haunted by the ghosts of dead dreams which have long died. After selling my internet company in 2007 and retiring young in my 30s, as opposed to old in my 60s, I set off to tackle the younger self question as it pertained to life and business. If I could go back and speak to 20-year-old me, someone who consistently struggled, what foresight would I share? What wisdom did I need slapped in my face? What did my failures unearth? And more importantly, how could other people benefit from this wisdom? After three years of self-reflection, the rough draft made Moby Dick look like a novella. Yes, my many mistakes and their learnings filled page after page, but even more revealing, I ended up with a book unlike anything else available. A book completely contrary to mainstream thought. In other words, happiness wasn't found doing what conventional wisdom embraced, but doing exactly the opposite.

Script:
Of all the people who have ever walked the Earth, only the smallest fraction have had access to even rudimentary medical care or education. Fewer still have enjoyed electricity. Almost none have ventured onto the Internet. We are surrounded by wonders of all kinds and have access to the accumulated knowledge and efforts of everyone who came before us. Our ancestors routinely watched their children die from diseases largely eradicated today. They toiled long hours in dangerous conditions to scratch out a survival existence. They wore itchy, poor-fitting clothes and had limited access to clean water for bathing and sanitation. Until about a hundred years ago, many Americans never brushed their teeth. In spite of what we might believe after watching the daily news, we live in a time of peace and safety. People in developed countries enjoy a security in their homes and persons, the likes of which has almost never been known. Until very recently, there was little opportunity for the police to solve a murder without an eyewitness. Molestation and rape are not 20th century inventions, but only now do the victims have some legitimate hope of finding justice. Although there is still hardship in the world and we all face challenges and dangers, we do so while often taking for granted the myriad of ways that the road of life has been pounded smooth by the footfalls of preceding generations. One reason our world seems to be so filled with strife and danger is that the worst of what it has to offer is aggregated and packaged for us weekly, daily, hourly by news corporations competing with one another for access to our limited attention in a round-the-clock news cycle. For many people with a healthy sense of empathy or compassion, or a sense of duty to their fellow man, keeping up with current events means exposure to a daily parade of gut-wrenching news, often delivered with the imagery to match. If you missed it a few minutes ago, it'll be back around on the quarter hour, or in your Facebook feed, or on Twitter. In a 2014 article from New York Magazine entitled What All This Bad News Is Doing to Us, Mary McNaughton Castle of the University of Texas San Antonio suggests that chronic news-watching can make people feel helpless and become more pessimistic in how they view the world. She describes how consuming all the bad news that's offered up for us every day skews people's point of view. She goes on to discuss how this manufactured pessimism impacts real-world decision-making, making people more fearful and cautious than the facts actually warrant. According to McNaughton Castle, the easiest way to deal with the negative feelings brought on by watching too much news is to just turn it off. Short of tuning out completely, she suggests that people become more conscious about their news consumption, suggesting that bad news from around the world be consumed in moderation, like junk food or anything else that we know is bad for us.

Script:
Lost time is never found again. Benjamin Franklin Philosophically, what is time to you? An age measurement? A way to keep appointments? Unfortunately, time is merciless and doesn't care how you define it, how you see it, or how you treat it. It's the undisputed killing champion of the world, racking up over a hundred billion wins and zero losses. No army and no earthly disaster can claim the same. You can't escape time's ravenous siphon, and yet everyone merrily pisses it away without hesitation. At its core, your existence feeds on time just like food and water. Life is rationed by time. Like cotton weaves a shirt or water fills a pool, your life rations embody the breadth of your existence. Non-refillable and non-refundable, time is a fuel tank that perpetually burns, permanently sealed from measurement or manipulation. And while your total life rations are unknown, their daily dispensaries are not. Each of us is gifted with 24 hours or 86,400 seconds per day. No one gets more, no one gets less. How you honor or dishonor these life rations marks the difference between being further entrenched in descriptive dogma or escaping it. For instance, know anyone who spends most of their free time in front of a video game? How about the poor sap who spends two hours waiting in line for a free hamburger? Few people explicitly work for three bucks per hour, but give them a freebie or a savings opportunity at that same rate, and you'll have tents lined around the building. Do you think billionaires are pissing their time away on a blog, arguing with strangers on the other side of the country about how some fictional HBO character shouldn't have been killed off? Temporal prostitution is one of the greatest tragedies of humanity. My first temporal prostitution WTF moment was a job I had at Sears Roebuck as a $5 per hour stock clerk in the drapery department. Talk about a 16-year-old's nightmare. I was probably the only teenager in the world who would carry on a conversation about valences. Anyhow, Ed Garrow was my crotchety supervisor who was your classic hawk-eyed micromanager. He demanded perfection and cursed everything I did. The towels are folded wrong, those toasters aren't stacked properly, or my favorite, if you need to piss, wait for lunch or piss your pants. It was at Sears where I learned that in order to make $500, I had to swap 100 hours of my life and swap them under the constant surveillance of Ed Garrow. This was important. Back then, my hobby was car stereos, and a 300-watt Rockford Fosgate amplifier with a $500 price tag had my interest. My audio system, already amped and stacked with dual 12-inch subwoofers, shook the street with thunderous force. My neighbors hated me, and I salted their anger by not rocking to Neil Diamond, but to two live crew. However, in my rebellious mind, they didn't hate me enough. My shit needed to thump harder, and that new Fosgate amplifier would indeed volumize the thumpings. But there was a problem. I hated my job, and I hated Ed. This was a watershed moment, because I noticed trading time for money sucked. But it also held another truth few grasp. The things I wanted, specifically my amp, really didn't cost money. They cost me fragments of my life. The price tag for my amplifier wasn't $500. It was 100 hourly life rations joyously spent with dickhead Ed. Suddenly, a few extra decibels of bass didn't seem worth it.

Script:
Hey you, how you doing? We're the Movers, two good fellas in the trunk. I'm Stubbs, this is my associate Frankie Four Fingers.

Script:
Would you believe I've been there myself?

Script:
But I'm just gonna wing it baby, cause that's what Dicky does! Dicky V, he's a winger!

Script:
Today we're following a man with a most dubious distinction, currently ranked the seventh most accident-prone man on the planet. Meet Marvin Poindexter.

Script:
El Rushbo here, with talent on loan from God.

Script:
Homer, how many times have I told you not to pick your toenails in bed?

Script:
NOOOO!!

Script:
Therefore, I came up with a formula. Your hunger quotient multiplied by .60 of the time spent waiting equals delicious satisfaction.

Script:
Ahoy mateys! There be no treasure for any man tonight! Now get below and secure the steerage, you scurvy dogs!

Script:
Uh-huh. Forget about your old standbys, my friend. From now on, think, let's nosh!

Script:
Home is where families grow, where fun times are shared, where love and laughter fill every corner. Home is where memories are made.

Script:
We understand that it's easy to get sidetracked. That's why we're encouraging you to make your health your number one priority this year. Get that screening you've been putting off. Start the nutrition plan you've been promising yourself every year and schedule that annual checkup. If not for yourself, do it for the ones that love you.

Script:
Sometimes, the best memories are made doing something spontaneous — a drop-what-you're-doing-let's-go-for-a-drive type of moment, like that time you took the family to the park. You grabbed a blanket and some lunch, and off you went. What a great day of talking and laughing and just being together.

Script:
How many times have you thought, I'm going to do it, I'm going to get involved and volunteer, help out in my community. But then, you get busy, things happen, life tends to get in the way. Well you know, it's never too late to start.

Script:
So no more excuses. You are the one in charge of you. You're calling the shots. Make no mistake, where you are in life is the result of the sum of your choices.

Script:
That's not just one game, that's for the whole season! Yeah, it's a dirt cheap party full of beer and football!

Script:
Home is where families grow, where fun times are shared, where love and laughter fill every corner. Home is where memories are made.

Script:
So drivers, please keep bike boxes clear, and cyclists, use bike boxes to be more visible. This will help everyone travel safely.

Script:
Return to the Upside Down as Netflix's all new Stranger Things Haunted House takes you through season 2 and 3's biggest scares.

Script:
Uh, pilot to bombardier, we are approaching target, over. Uh, bombardier here, locked and loaded, captain. Uh, roger that, target is a blue sedan.

Script:
The Window Depot has six panel doors, four by four foot vinyl windows, kitchen cabinets and now granite. So come in today and let our window and door pros assist you.

Script:
It's coming this Saturday. MMA training as you've never experienced it. A new way of thinking based on a code. Honor. Respect. Adapt. Overcome.

Script:
So no more excuses. You are the one in charge of you. You're calling the shots. Make no mistake, where you are in life is the result of the sum of your choices.

Script:
Discover why real riders ride Victory Motorcycles, from industry-leading power and handling to unmatched reliability.

Script:
We are the hand raisers, the game changers, the stop-talking, start-doing, band-together-and-take-on-the-impossible taskmasters. We surround a community's most critical problems and we look for solutions.

Script:
You know you can do more. With your life. With your mind. To be an example for your children. It's not too late. Get the career, hours, and pay you deserve.

Script:
Our highly trained staff provides individualized treatment planning, substance abuse counseling, alcohol abuse treatment and therapy, medication management, and aftercare planning. All in a discreet hospital setting.

Script:
Dr. Jones works with his staff to create the referral within the tool and provides a mechanism to close the loop and ensure all referrals made have received appropriate action. Dr. Jones knows that Mr. Smith is now receiving services from Meals on Wheels, and Meals on Wheels has Mr. Smith's doctor on file and can follow up if necessary.

Script:
Do you have Medicare? Open enrollment ends soon and it's almost over. Call now to review or change your current plan and learn how you can save money.

Script:
United, we combat hunger in our community. United, we fight for those who do not have a voice. United, we fight for more than just survival, but for dreams of what the future could be.

Script:
So raise your hand if you're ready to be that game-changer and invest in United Way. Because United we win. We have one life. To live better, we must live United.

Script:
So if you define success as helping your clients reach their goals with the least amount of risk, it's time to rethink diversification. Introducing Members Annuities with Risk Control Accounts from CUNA Mutual Group.

Script:
When it comes to electric vehicles, you need confidence that your circuit protection products are predictable and consistent. With adherence to automotive manufacturing standards, Bussmann Series EV fuses provide protection you can predict.

Script:
A well-engineered plan for audiovisual integration is the difference between success and failure. Our goal is to make our presence as quick and minimally disruptive as possible.

Script:
As an undisputed category creator and marketplace leader, OrthoLite boasts over 1,000 employees around the world. Because of our professional team of experts, our quality control delivers a less than 1% defective rate and a 98% on-time delivery.

Script:
With eSign, your agency can save at least $2,000 a year by eliminating paper, print, postage and follow-up time. Allstate saves too.

Script:
MyChart also provides the ability to manage an older parent's health. So people in their 50s and 60s are now helping manage their parents who are in their 80s and 90s by making appointments for them, going with them to see the doctor, and looking at lab results and needed follow-up.

Script:
by offering great benefits to your employees. and accurately, and with plenty of data on hand,

Script:
We invite you to learn more about these new ways to control risk and put market volatility in its place. Contact us today about risk control account options from members. With simple fee transparency, they're easy to use and easy to understand.

Script:
Having your ID bar turn red allows the other participants to know when you're a part of the conversation. You'll notice, as soon as a message appears in the control panel, an alert appears at the top of the page, and at the bottom.

Script:
Choose to stay in a luxurious oceanfront suite, a cozy villa, or spectacular poolside condo. Our five-star accommodations will turn your meeting into a memorable experience.

Script:
As an undisputed category creator and marketplace leader, OrthoLite boasts over 1,000 employees around the world. Because of our professional team of experts, our quality control delivers a less than 1% defective rate and a 98% on-time delivery.

Script:
Looking back to 1995, an investor could achieve a decent return with modest risk. But in 2015, getting that same return required a far more complex portfolio and much higher risk. So, if you define success as helping your clients reach their goals with the least amount of risk, it's time to rethink diversification.

Script:
With decades of experience, our dedicated HR team is with you every step of the way. Need help with compliance? We've got you covered. Best of all, everything is done through one platform, making HR simple for you and your employees.

Script:
A clean environment. A healthy lifestyle. Qualities we all desire for our families and the communities in which we live. Through this comprehensive program, SRS strives for a clean environment with vibrant, safe communities.

Script:
Retain your high performers by offering great benefits to your employees. You never have to worry about payroll because you know payday will just happen like clockwork, consistently and accurately. Your employees will also have answers to HR questions anytime, anywhere. Requesting time off, setting up direct deposit and checking details on paychecks can be done easily with a few clicks.

Script:
Have you been denied credit or forced to pay high interest rates due to a bad credit score? When you have a better credit score, you have more options. A better home, a better car, even a better job.

Script:
You're running a business, and running a business is like running a marathon. It takes all your grit, determination, and belief that you can do this. Whether it's keeping your customers happy, working on big ideas with your employees, or just showing the world that you're a yes among a thousand no's.

Script:
Unfortunately, there are proposals to eliminate this crucial support in the Trump administration's budget. Together, with one voice, we can provide the continued support necessary for the future success of rural America.

Script:
The future of artificial intelligence is bright at the University of Florida. We're home to the world's most powerful supercomputer, transforming tomorrow's workforce.

Script:
This brief video will walk you through the provider and patient experience during the CleanTrack process. CleanTrack lets you track appointments, goals, activities, symptoms, moods, and even craving levels.

Script:
The Deals Portal supports click-through access letters. A project admin can enable this capability in two easy steps. Step 1. Select the group that needs to sign an access letter. Step 2. Choose the appropriate signing requirements. It's that simple. The portal manages access to the deliverables automatically.

Script:
Now, let's go through the instructions for using BodyGuardian 1. First, prepare your skin. If hair is present, remove the hair where you will place the monitor. Thoroughly clean the area with soap and water. Dry the area completely. Do not apply lotions, oils, or perfumes. Next, attach the electrodes to the lead wires. Tap one ECG electrode into each of the five colored leads.

Script:
The SleepRight® Intranasal BreatheAid gently expands your nasal passages 58% more to increase airflow. This helps to relieve nasal congestion, reduce snoring, and open a deviated septum so you can sleep better and wake up refreshed. With clean hands, hold the septum band so the nasal flares form the letter W.

Script:
CSX is on a mission. A mission to lead. A mission to grow. A mission to redefine the role of rail service in the North American Freight Transportation System. And like every transformative endeavor, our mission to elevate the value of CSX for our customers and communities will require change. Change that begins with each one of us, working together at a level our industry has never seen.

Script:
So, kind of surprising, right? Not all Hasbro toys are made on some assembly line in a country far, far away. As a quality control tech, your job is to make sure that the Hasbro toys made here in the USA are finished to the standard we... Hello? Are you listening? Dude, do not do that with the My Little Pony Sea Pony Soft plushes! That's just wrong! And stop looking at the Milan figurines like that unless you want to get sent to HR! Okay, now where was I? You know, screw it, just press forward to continue.

Script:
Hi Laura, I'm Tom, your guide on this tour of the Microsoft campus. Where would you like to go? The cafeteria. Great. Please walk forward 50 feet and then turn right. The cafeteria is at the end of the hall. Here's a graphic to help.

Script:
But these days, a lot of our customers are spending more time at home. And now more than ever, they're relying on their furry friends for comfort and companionship. Well, here at PetSmart, we're all about making life easier and less stressful for our customers. So, let's go over how to improve our process for drive-up and delivery services. Click forward to continue.

Script:
Kelly has nine dinosaurs, Bobby has six dinosaurs, and Lawrence has ten monkeys. Who has the most dinosaurs? Try again. Lawrence has ten monkeys, not dinosaurs.

Script:
Welcome to plant safety for on-site contractors. This 30-minute training will help improve your understanding of your responsibilities as an Exxon on-site plant contractor and how to stay safe while you're here. Tap the arrow to move to the next slide.

Script:
Owing to the rapid development and wide clinical application of direct-acting antiviral, DAA, drugs in the treatment of hepatitis C virus infection, the era of interferon-based therapy has almost come to an end. Cumulative studies show that DAA therapy renders high cure efficiency and good safety profile and may even bring some unexpected benefits to the patients.

Script:
Your heart is racing as you desperately search for the exit. This is, without a doubt, the scariest haunted house you've ever been to. At this point, you're not even sure this is an attraction. Everything seems so... real. Especially your screams. Foggy Creek Mansion. Don't come alone.

Script:
Welcome, kiddies, to the one and only Satan's Fork Trail, the scariest haunted hike you'll ever take. Brave the foggy path that winds through the forest with surprises and scares around every turn. But be prepared. Satan's Fork lies ahead, and you'll need to decide if you can handle next-level fear.

Script:
Igor, come here! I need you! Yes, master. How can I serve you? Igor, I'm feeling a wave of guilt about all this killing and bloodsucking. I need to turn over a new leaf. What are you saying, master? I'm saying I'm going to become a vegan. Starting tomorrow. Again?

Script:
This Halloween, check out Warehouse 31, Northeast Florida's largest haunted house. This year, Warehouse 31 returns with two trails. Bigger and more terrifying rigor mortis. Introducing Professor Foggy Nox's 3D Cabinet of Curiosities.

Script:
Ho ho ho! To all the good little boys and girls out there, I hope you're having a wonderful holiday season. And I hope you're being extra good this year. Now remember, being good isn't about earning presents on Christmas morning. No, it's about being a good person all year round and treating others as you would like to be treated. Now, to all the not-so-good boys and girls out there, well, I have some bad news. Due to all the negative public perception of fossil fuels, coupled with the rising costs associated with energy, you'll no longer be receiving coal in your stocking. From now on, you'll get a dried goose turd instead. Gotta be environmentally friendly these days. Ho ho! Just a little incentive to turn it around and land on the good list next year. Merry Christmas to all! Ho ho ho!