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Sound maked with paper.
Type
Wave (.wav)
Duration
0:01.672
File size
157.0 KB
Sample rate
48000.0 Hz
Bit depth
16 bit
Channels
Mono
3 years, 5 months ago
Let me tell you a short story about how much joy this sound effect has brought me.
My great grandfather was an Arctic clam fisherman in the mid 1890's. The job was a dangerous one; days and nights spent pinched between the freezing sleet storms above and insidious ice floes below. The stories he used to tell - I could go on for days, but I'll stick to the one that relates to this particular sound effect:
August 31st, 1896. An unusually warm breeze swept across the deck of the SS ClamGrambler. Senator Bunkins (my great-grandfather's name, he was never involved in politics) stretched and rose from his hammock. Lowering his feet to the barnacle encrusted deck and rising to his full height, he turned his head towards the morning sun and closed his eyes.
Another waft of warm air, and carried upon it the smell of... muffins? Senator Bunkins's eyes snapped open and he surveyed his surroundings.
Muffins? It couldn't be muffins - not here. Not in the middle of the Arctic.
But the scent was unmistakable. Pumpkin muffins. With a hint of Chinese 5 spice and clove.
"PARBOT," hollered Bunkins in his traditionally horse yet high-pitched voice, "ARE YE BAKIN MOOFIES?"
Bunkins stood and listened. There was no response, but the smell continued to waft from the aft cabin of the ship.
"Think he can make moofies ann lee me out," muttered Bunkins to himself as he tromped towards the cabin door, following his nose. This was unlike Parbot, to make secret muffins. There was a certain socialistic camaraderie between clam fishermen, arising from the nature of spending months together in a perilous sea, and Parbot himself was a particularly gregarious character. Why would he choose this moment to become stingy with muffins?
Senator Bunkins stopped just outside the door. He could hear a scratching within, and the smell was almost overpowering. Peering through the small window beside the door he saw Parbot, facing away from him, hunched over a small writing desk.
Cracking the door abruptly and poking his head through like a turtle, Bunkins put on a sickly-sweet affect and said, "Parby, are ye sneakin moofies all by yerself?"
This startled the small man so terribly that he fell over backwards in his chair, sending several sheets of paper flying and toppling a large container of ink.
"Bunkins you absolute toad," cried Parbot as he picked himself up, "I was in the middle of writing a letter to my mother."
Senator opened the door fully and stepped into the dim cabin, offering a hand to poor toppled Parbot. "Aye? Then whats the stink? Are ye wearin' some kinda moofie cologne?"
"No," replied Parbot, his demeanor changing to one of excitement, "It's scented ink! It was a gift from my mom!"
Parbot retrieved one of the sheets of paper and wafted it towards my great grandfather, and the smell of muffins washed over him again.
I imagine that moment sounded exactly like this sound effect.
3 years, 5 months ago
A masterpiece.