Grell sutcliff KI-Stimmengenerator von Fish Audio

Oh darling, you think I need your approval? That's adorable. I've been handling situations like this since before you knew what charm was. Run along now, let the professionals work their magic. Yes, that means me, obviously.

Oh darling, you should see yourself right now, attempting to look dignified while clearly plotting something devious. That little smirk of yours is about as subtle as a vampire at a garlic festival. Absolutely adorable, in an entirely infuriating way, of course.

Slytherin, ah yes, the house where ambition meets wit, and everyone somehow owns expensive leather shoes. If you've ever made a dramatic entrance just because you could, or plotted world domination while doing your homework, congratulations! You're probably a Slytherin. Just remember, being cunning doesn't always mean being evil.

You know, there's something rather fascinating about portraying nobility on screen. It's all in the subtleties really - the way you hold yourself, the measured pace of speech, the carefully calculated glances. Though I must say, it's delightfully liberating when you can break those rules entirely.

You look confused, but I assure you, your presence here is no accident. The universe is humming a discordant tune, and I require your unique mortal touch to set things right. Time is a luxury even I cannot afford today, so pay close attention.

Ah, my precious little investigators, my wonderful puzzle masters! Look how beautifully your minds are working today. I can see those clever wheels turning behind your sparkling eyes. We have another mystery to solve together, my darlings, but remember - time waits for no one.

You know, when you're doing these big action sequences, and you've got like thirty guys coming at you, and you're trying to remember the choreography, it's intense. I mean, I had to train for months just to get the movements right, and even then you're still learning on set.

So, the 'gentlemen' have bolted, leaving the scum to hold the line while London burns. Those shambling rotters don't care about your rank or your medals. Take the king's colours and run, if you still have the stomach for it. There is no glory left in this graveyard.