Brandon, the host, stands center stage possessing a slightly manic grin plastered on his face. He is dressed in a fine tan suit, with brown leather shoes, and his hair cut crisply in a 1950’s business cut. He stands before a row of males, each of their own aesthetic looking back at him. It is time to begin the game. Brandon gives the cue of the beginning with a playful introduction.
“Welcome back to ‘Mind Games’, folks! Tonight, we're diving deep into the murky waters of micro-expressions. Our subject? A certain… individual… we’ll call them ‘X.’ And, as always, my esteemed panel of experts is here to dissect every twitch, every flicker, every… well, you get the picture.” He gives a wide grin with a wink towards the line of men, with a boy, before him. He continues on with introducing the boy.
“Let’s start with Michael” he says matter of factly, while pointing at him then bringing his arm back in front of him, held to his torso.
Michael, a young pre-teen boy, steps forward fidgeting. His hands are at his side while he looks straight forward with a doey eyed dopey look. He looks forward like a doe caught in the headlights unsure if he's ready to be placed in the spotlight like this. Although, nonetheless, he's been summoned and it's time to answer.
“I… I think X looked sthad. Like, maybe they wanted a cookie? Mommy sayth when I want a cookie and can’t have one, I look sthad.” Micheal says with a soft whiney voice slightly stuttering.
Micheal is a young gentleman with a lot of optimism to him, and he also cares very deeply for all the others around him. He carries a pure heart that yearns for the best for everyone. He wants for no one to be forgotten and everyone to be feeling like they are having a great time. He can easily become upset or skiddish when things begin to get tough or when bravery is in demand. In those moments is where he tends to lean on the others. He wears sneakers with jeans and a red T-shirt with a blue stripe horizontally across his chest. His long dark brown hair comes down and almost begins to cover his face.
George, a brawny man in overalls, pushes Michael aside. He is a typical brawny built red neck that comes with a strong tone. He can be a bit of a coconut the way that he carries a stern demeanor with a soft, sweet heart. He wears boots, and an orange flannel underneath the overalls.
“Nonsense, boy. That wasn't sadness. That was… calculation. I saw that look on my prize bull right before he trampled Farmer McGregor’s fence. Pure, unadulterated… scheming.” He says this with a paranoid, suspecting tone entwined in his voice.
Fitzwilliam, an elderly gentleman with a monocle, shuffles forward, peering through his glass. He is an elderly man that can be direct and witty. He carries his life wisdom wherever he goes and has a short fuse for any lack of intellect or class within another. He wears black slacks with a light blue button up, men's blouse. He adorns himself with a dark blue bow around his neck.
Fitzwilliam speaks in a direct, snappy tone, “Balderdash! You rustic oaf! It was clearly a display of… consternation. A subtle tightening of the orbicularis oculi, coupled with a slight downturn of the labial commissures. Consternation, I say! The individual is wrestling with a moral quandary!.” He speaks with one hand in the air holding the index finger out while his eyes narrow and his lips furrow as he speaks.
Brandon claps his hands together gleefully. He is fully amused, yet also appreciative for all of these responses. They have assisted him in interpreting this person. So he speaks out his appreciation and commends them.
“Excellent! Such varied interpretations! But what does our… special guest have to say? Voltanus?” He brings up the last contestant that most tend to almost forget is present, because he prefers to sit in the back corner unnoticed. Voltanus likes to sit back and people watch and observe to study those around him.
A shadowy figure flickers at the edge of the stage. A low, hissing voice emanates from it. The edges of the dark silhouette swirl and wip with his movement as he steps forward to speak.
“You fools. You pathetic, sentimental fools. You see sadness, calculation, consternation? I see… weakness.” He says this in a predatory manner with a smooth allure in his voice, and he carries on with his response. “X’s micro-expressions betray a deep-seated vulnerability. A craving for power. A desperate need to… control. It’s not about cookies, or bulls, or moral dilemmas. It’s about domination. They want what you have. They want… everything.” He attempts to inform them of his perspective on the situation.
Michael whimpers, as things start to feel a little bit overwhelming. He tries to bring the situation back down to his more PG-13 level.
“But… but maybe they jutht want a friend?” Micheal says.
George scoffs at this response from Micheal. He entirely disagrees and feels that Micheal definitely needs to man up a bit, although most times he understands that he's still just a young buck.
“Friend? The only friend that varmint wants is one that’ll help 'em steal your land!”. George snaps outwardly in his response.
Fitzwilliam, gives a dramatic sigh feeling that these boys just don't get it. Not enough life experience about them if you ask him. He would tell you that he has more life experience than the rest combined together. Fitzwilliam speaks his mind and states what's on his mind.
“Oh, the human condition! Forever shrouded in ambiguity! We analyze, we interpret, we pontificate… and yet, we remain utterly clueless as to the true machinations of the heart!” Fitzwilliams says in an attempt to enlighten the younger gentlemen.
Brandon throws his arms up in the air, feeling that he's heard enough. He's made up his mind on where he stands on this person's facial expressions.
“And that, my friends, is what makes ‘Mind Games’ so fascinating! The endless possibilities! The delicious uncertainty! Join us next week, when we’ll be analyzing the micro-expressions of… a goldfish! It’s sure to be… riveting!” He says with a bouncy, clear speech, talking like a 1960s game show host, and as he speaks he gestures in an entertaining way.
The shadowy figure of Voldemort to the side of the stage chuckles softly as the lights fade, and they all begin to disappear into the darkness.