Summarizing Week 1

The audience settles in as the lights dim once again. A sweeping animation of the College Spread logo rolls across the massive screen, followed by the thump of a driving bassline.

Rhett struts onto stage with his usual swagger, mic in hand, and a grin like he’s about to host the best funeral of the semester.

“Alright, you filthy animals—welcome back to College Spread: The Ultimate Game of Poke-her!”

The crowd erupts in cheers.

Rhett spins and gestures to the seven contestants back in their seats. “Week One was a baptism by fire, and some of you came out steaming. Others? Just plain burned.”

He claps his hands once.

“Tonight, we kick off Week Two by revisiting Week One. One by one, in good old youngest-to-oldest order, we’re gonna show you what went down—and how many points our players managed to put on the table.”

The massive screen behind him flickers to life. One by one he assesses how each contestant did, as he does so a clip of their actions in the challenges appears on the screen behind him.

“Our baby-faced freshman pulled Kailani Mahelona, 9 of Clubs. A goddess in cleats and compression shorts.”

He turns to you, brows raised. “Remind us—what challenge did you go with?”

You answer, “BDSM.”

Rhett stops, mock-horrified. “Oh hell no. You had that Public Sex card too, didn’t you?”

He waves his hand, screen flicking to a paused still of Kailani on cam, strapping you in.

“You were livestreamed, tied up, toyed with, and tipped for—don’t try to play dumb. That was public enough to qualify for a municipal fine.”

He shakes his head. “That Public Sex card? Worth ×8. You nearly threw away 9 whole points because you forgot your own damn inventory.”

You blush. Inside, you want to throw yourself off the stage.

Rhett grins. “But you didn’t. You played it right. 9 × 8 = 72 points. Locking?”

You shake your head. “Holding.”

“Going for glory. Let’s see if you live long enough to get there.”

“Next up, Milo the Charmer. A total chaos engine. You pulled Dr. Maya Redcloud—Empress of the anthropology wing. And you somehow got a blow job out of it.”

Milo grins. “What can I say? She’s got a sweet tooth.”

Rhett raises an eyebrow. "I must say though, only getting a times 4 on an her... seems like a waste of a lot of Empress points. Why didn't you go bigger?"

"Her rumor said she insists on getting her five a day - blow jobs, not fruit and veg. Apparently our professor just loves the taste of cum. I went with the sure thing... and boy was it worth it! That woman sucks harder than her worst exam!"

Rhett chuckles. “Empress. Blow job. That’s 50 × 4—200 points. That’s a hell of a mouthful.”

Milo crosses his arms smugly. “I’m holding. Looking for a full crown.”

Rhett nods. “One hell of a play, no doubt. Moving on…”

“Now... Tank. You're meant to be the big man with a bigger appetite. You picked Claire Kowolski, 3 of Clubs. Girl’s barely above deck filler.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And you only got a Blow Job out of her. That girl's out of your league... and by that I mean she's at least 3 leagues below you. You're repping the football team!”

Tank shrugs, deadpan. “Still a blowjob.”

Rhett groans. “3 × 4—12 points. Even your linemen score higher on midterms. Holding?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, maybe you’re hoping to build a short hand and hit someone with it.”

“And then we have Zeke. Oh, Zeke…” Rhett pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s dealing with a particularly embarrassing cousin at Thanksgiving.

“You tried to get Dr. Genevieve Rousseau, Queen of Hearts, to do public sex. In what? The faculty lounge? Did you book a reservation at the syllabus printer?”

Zeke stiffens. “She respected my sophistication.”

Rhett snorts. “Right up until she told you she’d rather do her taxes in front of a crowd than sleep with a legacy brat in a monogrammed tie.”

Laughter from the audience. Rhett gestures to the screen.

“Challenge failed. Zero points. Which means Genevieve is back in the draw this week.”

He adds, twisting the knife, “Zeke went big when he had no chance. Lesson learned: no amount of inherited cufflinks make up for getting curved by a cultural theorist with tenure.”

“Next our one lady contestant, and our former champion, Cassie Li, the legend returns. And first week out, she’s in a parking lot with Kaori Tanaka—on the hood of a sedan, no less.”

Cassie gives a knowing nod.

“Pure theater,” Rhett says. “I heard the screams. Security was halfway there by the end.”

Cassie laughs. “We got away. Drama major reflexes.” She winks and says no more.

“6 × 8 = 48 points. Holding?”

She grins. “You know it.”

“Well, if they give Oscars for public moaning, you’re already top billing.”

Rhett turns dramatically. “Professor Rourke. Our tenured tactician.”

He raises one unimpressed brow.

“You kissed a 4-card. Madison Ortiz. No hands. No heat. Just a kiss.”

Rourke nods serenely. “There’s power in restraint.”

“And four points in mediocrity,” Rhett quips. “You’re locking that in?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, Professor, if you’re not eliminated for low score, someone might fail you for boring technique.”

“Last but not least—Graham West. Real estate mogul. Board member. Older than most of our jokes.”

He turns to the crowd. “He chose Delilah Zheng, 8 of Diamonds. Business major. And you’d think being on the board of the school she studies at would count for something.”

Graham adjusts his collar again.

“But no,” Rhett says. “All that power, all that status… and what does he get? A naked kiss in the boardroom.”

He leans in, mock-earnest. “Mr. West, did you negotiate that kiss using PowerPoint?”

The audience erupts.

“8 × 2 = 16 points. Holding?”

Graham mutters, “Yes.”

“Of course you are. Maybe try offering stock options next time.”

Rhett strolls back center stage as the crowd quiets.

“One week down. One busted attempt. Six survivors. Some playing it bold, some playing it ****.”

He grins at the camera.

“But now it’s time to see who’s playing next. Let’s draw the cards for Week Two.”