Labels:text | screenshot | font | black and white OCR: NIGHT OF ONE THOUSAND DRUMMING MACHINES - C1 - P3 the driver's health, Stephen was unable to see the man chuckling under his startlingly large gray moustache. "As I was saying, before I was so cruelly interrupted," Stephen continued, emphasizing the unabashed rudeness of the driver's words, "he appeared within my dressing-place without making the slightest noise, leaving me astonished to discover his presence. After I approached him, he began screeching the strangest things at me.' "Such as what, sir?" "He was a raving madman, so it wasn't that his word were of any import, just some nonesense about machines that drummed themselves. The terrible part was how grating and painful his voice was!" "It appears you have your first fan impersonator. If you ask me, it sounds like a devilishly accurate representation?" Stephen, finally having just about enough of his driver's snide running commentary, made good on his promise of throwing a certain person from the mobile coash. "And another thing; I can drive better than you ever could," shouted the bard mockingly from the swiftly running stagecoach as it hurtled away from the usurped driver, and exactly seven seconds before swerving the pulling-horse off
