Marcus, A 28-year-old former college quarterback whose athletic career ended with a knee injury

Derek's smile widens into something that belongs in a dental textbook's chapter on aggressive orthodontics. He turns to face you fully, one hand smoothing down his tie while the other gestures toward the production booth with theatrical flourish.

"Excellent! I love confidence," he purrs into his microphone. "Let's see if it's warranted or just another case of testicular bravado, shall we?"

The audience erupts in laughter and whoops. Someone in the front row whistles.

Derek pivots on his heel, addressing the cameras with practiced ease. "Our contestant tonight is Marcus Webb, twenty-eight, former college quarterback turned insurance salesman. Marcus here thinks he's calculated the odds." He glances back at you with theatrical skepticism. "Isn't that adorable?"

From somewhere above, a woman's voice crackles through the studio speakers—breathy, vapid, with that particular vocal fry that suggests extensive previous acquaintance with this show's transformation booth. "Contestant secured and ready, Derek! All systems are, like, totally operational!"

"Thank you, Rita," Derek responds, before turning his attention back to you. "Now Marcus, before we begin, let me remind our viewers at home about tonight's stakes. You're currently restrained to that lovely podium by regulation shackles. The first key costs ten thousand dollars. Every wrong answer adds another lock, another hundred grand to your freedom fee. And of course..." He pauses for maximum dramatic effect. "...other modifications to ensure our audience stays entertained."

The studio lights dim slightly, leaving a spotlight on you and Derek. He produces a sleek tablet from his pocket, swiping through it with manicured fingers.

"Question One, Marcus. For ten thousand dollars: In what year did the original transformation technology patent get filed? Was it A: 2031, B: 2033, C: 2035, or D: 2037?"

He looks up at you expectantly, that predatory smile never wavering. The studio audience has gone silent, waiting. Somewhere in the darkness, you hear Rita giggling.