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Public Lead - 5388731 - We are looking for a British voice...
5388731
We are looking for a British voice over artist to portray a 14 year old boy from Cornwall. It is for a museum installation in Cornwall so the Cornish accent must be spot-on. Our budget for the voice acting is £65. The script can either be recorded here if the voiceover actor is willing to travel, or sent to us in a high-quality digital format.
Sep 07, 2005 11:30:25 (GMT -05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada) Sep 14, 2005 00:00:00 (GMT -05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada) No (click here to learn more about
)
Closed
3
3
0 direct invitation(s) have been sent by the voice seeker resulting in 0 audition(s) and/or proposal(s) so far.
Sep 07, 2005 11:30:25 (GMT -05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada) Sep 14, 2005 00:00:00 (GMT -05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada) No (click here to learn more about
)
Closed
3
3
0 direct invitation(s) have been sent by the voice seeker resulting in 0 audition(s) and/or proposal(s) so far.
Project Parameters
None
To be defined
Promos
English - British
Not defined
Teenage Boy
Not defined
There are no special pre-, post-, or production requirements for this project.
Not defined
Not defined
No
Not defined
Script Details
Yes
Full script for pricing reference:
Hello. First time here? Well, then, welcome to Wheal Martyn. My name’s Jim Trethewey (Treth phew weee).
I’m what they call a Kettle Boy. Yeah, that’s right – kettle. Well, what d’you think I’m carrying, then? That’s a Kettle right enough. I’ve been working here since I was 14 – that’s a year ago, now, near as makes no difference.
[Beat]
There’s some came here younger than that: chap called Marshel Andrew was telling me he came here when he was ten years old. His father had died, and he had to leave school right away. I reckon that’s on the young side, myself.
When you start off at the work you do all manner of fetching and carrying. There’s boiling the water in this here kettle to make the tea for crib. Crib? That’s your dinner. Don’t you know anything?
Then there’s carrying tools to and fro the blacksmith’s shop. And I’ve helped my dad in the blasting. I had to turn the boryer to make holes for the charges. I was sitting on a damp board, and all the time two hammers pounding up and down, a few inches from my nose. It’s no joke, I can tell you, cause you cop it good and hot if you get a three-cornered hole – and if you let the boryer wander just a little bit off the vertical – well, you never hear the end of it. It affects they way the explosives work, you see.
Oh, we do all sorts. I never liked going to fetch the beer, though. You have to bring it back miles, with a two gallon jar of the dratted stuff alolling round your neck. You don’t half catch it if you let any drop, I can tell you. Ugh! I hate the smell of the stuff. I can’t understand what they see in it.
Still, it gets you about the place. I got sent to the Bal maidens yesterday on an errand. One of them’s my cousin Jessie. They were taking the blocks of dried clay out of the air dry, and then they were scraping clean the bottoms and the sides. They get through tons of clay in a day.
I work alongside my brother Tom, he works a Monitor down the pit. Yup, that's right, Monitor like the snake. It's a big hose really, just coiled like a snake. They use them to blast the clay from the pit face, sending rivers of the stuff gushing to the pit-bottom. Tom used to tell me the Monitors come alive sometimes and bite kettle boys. Ha! Not likely I'd believe that.
You got to have a sharp eye for the good clay. Only the other day, Tom got a right blowing up from the Captain when he got it wrong. They say the Captain sees everything in the pit. He’s a real stuffed shirt. Lucky he wears that bowler hat. At least it helps us steer well clear most of the time.
But at least he understands what it means to work, unlike some of the pit owners.
Anyway, I reckon I’ve had about enough of this Kettle Boy lark. It’s hard, but it toughens you up – and soon I shall move on to a proper
job, with proper money. Perhaps I shall be put down the pit, but I’m hoping to be on the dry or maybe the mica drags – we’ll see.
Anyway, I can’t stand here talking to you: I’ve got to fill up this kettle and boil it, and then I’ve got to make the tea. It’s nearly time for crib – and I’ve had enough blowing up for being late! Hello. First time here? Well, then, welcome to Wheal Martyn. My name’s Jim Trethewey (Treth phew weee).
I’m what they call a Kettle Boy. Yeah, that’s right – kettle. Well, what d’you think I’m carrying, then? That’s a Kettle right enough. I’ve been working here since I was 14 – that’s a year ago, now, near as makes no difference.
[Beat]
There’s some came here younger than that: chap called Marshel Andrew was telling me he came here when he was ten years old. His father had died, and he had to leave school right away. I reckon that’s on the young side, myself.
When you start off at the work you do all manner of fetching and carrying. There’s boiling the water in this here kettle to make the tea for crib. Crib? That’s your dinner. Don’t you know anything?
Then there’s carrying tools to and fro the blacksmith’s shop. And I’ve helped my dad in the blasting. I had to turn the boryer to make holes for the charges. I was sitting on a damp board, and all the time two hammers pounding up and down, a few inches from my nose. It’s no joke, I can tell you, cause you cop it good and hot if you get a three-cornered hole – and if you let the boryer wander just a little bit off the vertical – well, you never hear the end of it. It affects they way the explosives work, you see.........
......................
Hello. First time here? Well, then, welcome to Wheal Martyn. My name’s Jim Trethewey (Treth phew weee).
I’m what they call a Kettle Boy. Yeah, that’s right – kettle. Well, what d’you think I’m carrying, then? That’s a Kettle right enough. I’ve been working here since I was 14 – that’s a year ago, now, near as makes no difference.
[Beat]
There’s some came here younger than that: chap called Marshel Andrew was telling me he came here when he was ten years old. His father had died, and he had to leave school right away. I reckon that’s on the young side, myself.
When you start off at the work you do all manner of fetching and carrying. There’s boiling the water in this here kettle to make the tea for crib. Crib? That’s your dinner. Don’t you know anything?
Then there’s carrying tools to and fro the blacksmith’s shop. And I’ve helped my dad in the blasting. I had to turn the boryer to make holes for the charges. I was sitting on a damp board, and all the time two hammers pounding up and down, a few inches from my nose. It’s no joke, I can tell you, cause you cop it good and hot if you get a three-cornered hole – and if you let the boryer wander just a little bit off the vertical – well, you never hear the end of it. It affects they way the explosives work, you see.
Oh, we do all sorts. I never liked going to fetch the beer, though. You have to bring it back miles, with a two gallon jar of the dratted stuff alolling round your neck. You don’t half catch it if you let any drop, I can tell you. Ugh! I hate the smell of the stuff. I can’t understand what they see in it.
Still, it gets you about the place. I got sent to the Bal maidens yesterday on an errand. One of them’s my cousin Jessie. They were taking the blocks of dried clay out of the air dry, and then they were scraping clean the bottoms and the sides. They get through tons of clay in a day.
I work alongside my brother Tom, he works a Monitor down the pit. Yup, that's right, Monitor like the snake. It's a big hose really, just coiled like a snake. They use them to blast the clay from the pit face, sending rivers of the stuff gushing to the pit-bottom. Tom used to tell me the Monitors come alive sometimes and bite kettle boys. Ha! Not likely I'd believe that.
You got to have a sharp eye for the good clay. Only the other day, Tom got a right blowing up from the Captain when he got it wrong. They say the Captain sees everything in the pit. He’s a real stuffed shirt. Lucky he wears that bowler hat. At least it helps us steer well clear most of the time.
But at least he understands what it means to work, unlike some of the pit owners.
Anyway, I reckon I’ve had about enough of this Kettle Boy lark. It’s hard, but it toughens you up – and soon I shall move on to a proper
job, with proper money. Perhaps I shall be put down the pit, but I’m hoping to be on the dry or maybe the mica drags – we’ll see.
Anyway, I can’t stand here talking to you: I’ve got to fill up this kettle and boil it, and then I’ve got to make the tea. It’s nearly time for crib – and I’ve had enough blowing up for being late! Hello. First time here? Well, then, welcome to Wheal Martyn. My name’s Jim Trethewey (Treth phew weee).
I’m what they call a Kettle Boy. Yeah, that’s right – kettle. Well, what d’you think I’m carrying, then? That’s a Kettle right enough. I’ve been working here since I was 14 – that’s a year ago, now, near as makes no difference.
[Beat]
There’s some came here younger than that: chap called Marshel Andrew was telling me he came here when he was ten years old. His father had died, and he had to leave school right away. I reckon that’s on the young side, myself.
When you start off at the work you do all manner of fetching and carrying. There’s boiling the water in this here kettle to make the tea for crib. Crib? That’s your dinner. Don’t you know anything?
Then there’s carrying tools to and fro the blacksmith’s shop. And I’ve helped my dad in the blasting. I had to turn the boryer to make holes for the charges. I was sitting on a damp board, and all the time two hammers pounding up and down, a few inches from my nose. It’s no joke, I can tell you, cause you cop it good and hot if you get a three-cornered hole – and if you let the boryer wander just a little bit off the vertical – well, you never hear the end of it. It affects they way the explosives work, you see.........
......................
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