osie Tibbs sat behind the thick glass wall separating the control room from the studio. She listened to the same voice-over for the umpteenth time in the last hour and watched her client, Victor Clyde, owner of Clyde's Dog Emporium, as his face screwed into a frown.Darn it, she thought, stifling the groan that was making its way up her throat. She'd rather eat a dog bone than record one more take of this dog food commercial."I don't know," Clyde said yet again. "I don't think it is quite there. We're spending a lot of money on this ad campaign and it needs to be perfect."Well, heck, it was perfect an hour ago. In fact, Josie would have deemed the whole radio ad perfection after the first take. It was dog food, for cripes sake!"What seems to be the problem with this last take?""I sound a little flat." Victor Clyde was a stout man with gray hair thinning at the temples, and a nose that reminded Josie of a dachshund. He stood in the studio with headphones clamped over his ears, listening as the tape played again, and waved his arms theatrically.
