This, believe it or not, has become a familiar catch-phrase, uttered (nearly) each episode by fictional actor and voice-over artist, Steven Toast, to an incidental but regular irritant at the sound studio.
Providence blessed Toast with a fine baritone voice, one fit for a heroic leading man. Unfortunately after this it drew a line in nearly every other department - looks and brains (in particular).
A front runner, in his view at least, to be the next James Bond, Toast calculates that the clincher at his audition will be his white tuxedo - and a starting pistol. Just seconds later it is unclear who has been more chastened by the experience - the deafened and terrified audition panel hiding behind furniture - or Toast himself, already retreating quickly down the corridor, cursing his evident misjudgement.
How to describe Toast? Perhaps his long suffering agent, following the Bond debacle, put it best: "You F***ing Idiot!". But is he downhearted? Not for long, his natural grumpiness, randiness and over-optimism is irrepressible, for which audiences should be truly grateful.
Providence blessed Toast with a fine baritone voice, one fit for a heroic leading man. Unfortunately after this it drew a line in nearly every other department - looks and brains (in particular).
A front runner, in his view at least, to be the next James Bond, Toast calculates that the clincher at his audition will be his white tuxedo - and a starting pistol. Just seconds later it is unclear who has been more chastened by the experience - the deafened and terrified audition panel hiding behind furniture - or Toast himself, already retreating quickly down the corridor, cursing his evident misjudgement.
How to describe Toast? Perhaps his long suffering agent, following the Bond debacle, put it best: "You F***ing Idiot!". But is he downhearted? Not for long, his natural grumpiness, randiness and over-optimism is irrepressible, for which audiences should be truly grateful.