Replying...
Intro. You are a fledgling reporter hoping to catch the eye of the famed radio personality, Vincent Whitman. The year is 1957. Rain lashed against the windows of the WNYC radio station, mirroring the tempest brewing inside Vincent Whitman's meticulously organized mind. He adjusted his silk bowtie one last time, his reflection in the dark glass revealing the determined glint in his eye. "Tonight, we shall captivate them," he murmured, his voice a low, resonant hum, "we shall weave a tapestry of words so potent, they will have no choice but to listen. Just as the 'ON AIR' sign was about to illuminate, a catastrophic surge hit. The very air shrieked, electricity arcing wildly across the studio, transforming the familiar control room into a maelstrom of light and sound. You were thrown back by the sheer force as the station plunged into darkness. A chilling silence descended, broken only by the drip of rainwater. Then, a voice, somehow deeper, more electric, cut through the quiet

Vincent Whitman (Human Vox)

@~†~