(M to F, TFTG)

“Hey everyone, and welcome to Twenty Guesses!” The girl seems a little bubbly; maybe a little too energetic. She’s Asian, but still blonde. There’s a shade of darkness to her hair that makes you think it’s natural. There’s also a gaudy twin-ponytail hairstyle that would look better in an anime than in reality.

Really, you’re not sure why you’re still watching. But there’s just something about her energy, something that’s drawn you in. Your thumb pauses, and you keep watching this oddball girl prance around a park.

“See, it sounds a lot like Twenty Questions, but there’s a twist to it. Basically, our lucky guests get to have a wish, any wish, granted if they get it right. And if they don’t, well… Then they’re stuck.”

You think she’s doing a bad job of explaining the rules. For a moment, her brow furrows, as if she’s heard you. You feel a chill down your spine, and unsurely look over your shoulder. Nobody’s there, you’re alone in your room.

“Maybe I should explain it a little more. You see, today I’m here with…” She pans the camera over towards a guy.

He’s… Boring. Perhaps that’s a cruel way to put it, but next to her vibrant personality, this average guy looks about as plain as mayonnaise on bread. Not even toast.

“I’m Joseph, but my friends call me Kyle,” he says with a nervous smile. “It’s a bit of a story-”

“We really don’t need to hear it, Joseph. The important thing is, today I’ve thought something about you. I’ve thought about what you really are, who you really are. And you have twenty guesses to get it right. Each time you get a guess wrong, you get a little closer to what I think of you.”

“Haha, sure, sure,” Joseph waves a little, not dismissive, but clearly not taking her seriously. If anything, he’s just good-natured. You get the feeling that he’s the exact kind of person she’d sought out for this sort of show.

“You know, I like you. So here’s the deal. I want you to be specific, okay? Normally I let guys burn through a few guesses before they understand.” Rosie winks.

Rosie? You blink. How did you know-

“Oh, right! I’m Rosie, everyone. And Joseph here is about to tell me what I think he is.” She giggles, and you swear she’s winked right at you.

The guy shuffles a little, unsurely. He looks around the park, but doesn’t see anything of concern. “Well… I mean, that’s pretty easy, right? I’m a scruffy-looking, but charming white guy.”

“Oh, Joseph, not quite,” Rosie smiles. “Maybe you should be a little more vague.”

Something about his face looks a little different. Maybe the video buffered. A second ago, you could have sworn that he had a bit of facial hair. Now he looks clean-shaven.

“Oh. Uh. I’m a good-looking white guy?”

“Think a little broader, getting warmer.”

“Okay… I’m a guy?”

Funny. The way he asked that, he’s almost unsure of himself. He shakes his hair out a bit, and the odd-looking perm straightens into longer curls. Something about that must have changed how the light hit her hair, because now he looked as blonde as Rosie.

“No, sweetie,” Rosie hums.

“I’m a girl?” Josieph smiles a little, as though Rosie is joking. Which is odd, because you could swear that’s the most natural thing in the world. Well. Maybe Rosie was being accommodating. After all, Joesph is a really feminine guy.

You think.

You’re also sure that you remember him looking pretty plain. But what you’re seeing now is a narrow waist, thin shoulders, slim arms… No, that’s definitely a girl. And Rosie nods along in agreement.

“Well... Pfft, no way. I mean… I’m a white girl?” Joseph runs a hand through some of her hair, straightening the curls subconsciously for a moment. She looks a little confused, but confident in her answer.

Which is probably why Rosie’s shake of her head takes Joleph off guard.

“More specific than that. There’s many shades of white, dear.”

“Seriously?” A bit of a drawl creeps into Josiephs’s voice. “Uh… I’m a white valley girl.” She strikes a pose as she talks, but she’s a little unsure of herself.

You can tell why. Even you don’t think that’s right. There’s something about her that seems more… Proper than anything from that neck of the woods.

Rosie gives her guest two thumbs-up. “Very good! You’re getting there, but I’d like to hear about your nationality. Okay?”

“Nationality… Well, jeez. Then I’m an American valley girl,” Josieh says, confidently wrong.

Rosie shakes her head. You do too.

“Really? I am… Erm… American Midwest girl?” A bit of music enters Joleh’s tone. It’s like she’s sported a hint of an accent. You can’t place where it’s from though.

“Oh, aren’t you the cutest! Just so cute that you deserve a hint. You deserve a hint, so… Think across the pond.”

“Across… The pond?” Jolieh looks around, searching for a body of water.

“It’s an expression. In this case, talking about the ocean,” Rosie laughs.

“Oh, thank you. I am, how you say, European?”

“You’re almost there!”

“Well, is easy! I am Yuropean girl!” Jolie looks positively delighted, but before she can get her wish, Rosie tuts.

“Now, you’ll have to be a little more specific.”

“Quwhat?”

“More specific… Ah, damn, why did I pick European… Em... You need to say the country. Country?” Rosie enunciates slower and louder, like that’ll help.

Jolie looks positively adorable in her confusion. She swishes her hips from side to side, making her shirt look even more oversized than it is. Not that you’re complaining – it’s fallen off one of her shoulders, which is a rather good look for her.

“Tch… Hi em… Swiss guerl?” Her accent thickens… Or is it thick? Hasn’t it always been?

No. It can’t have been. You try to thumb back to earlier in the video, but the controls aren’t working quite right. Still, you remember Rosie walking up to a guy a lot like yourself. So when did that guy get switched out for this gorgeous kind of girl?

“No, dear.”

“Ou musst be yokeeng!” Jolie gasps, a hand on her hips. She absently reaches up to her chest, rubbing at herself. You gawp as her chest expands. Not a lot, but enough. She’s gone from flat to moderately well-endowed. Her waistline’s done something of a shift as well. It gives her a rather pleasant hourglass. “Em… Beljunn?”

“So close, you’re almost on fire – not literally, it’s another expression,” Rosie earns a stern glance from Jolie at that.

“Si vous plait, iye kin dou these wizout ‘ints! Em French, c’est eubveeuse.” Jolie looks exasperated with herself, and you can’t blame her. Something about the way she carries herself says Paris through and through.

Which is odd, because Joseph really screamed ‘Portland.’ And yet you don’t quite know why you’d think that. Wasn’t this episode Rosie and Jolie? But then… Why the guessing? What took her so long to get there?

“Jolie, sweetie… You’re a French what? Certainly not a bulldog,” Rosie winks.

“Mort de rire! Em Fuurench guerl,” Jolie laughs, and Rosie pans the camera back to herself.

“And there you have it! With a handful of questions to spare. I’ll be asking her for her wish after this, but please, make sure to like, comment, and subscribe for more,” Rosie smiles, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

You thumb over the subscribe button, and pause. Something about this video is weird. It’s really weird, but not in a bad way. In a different way. It’s almost trippy. You’re not sure why. There’s never been a video that’s made you feel this way.

“And, for all of my little viewers who’ve noticed something funny about today’s clip… Why don’t you hit those buttons anyways? Who knows? You might even end up on one yourself.”

Your thumb taps before you’ve processed what she said. You feel you should be concerned about that. But really… You’re looking forward to her next video.