[Gym Start]

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, taking a sip from your water bottle as you finish up a set at the local gym. You look up toward the squat rack, where Sarah—a stunning, notoriously serious 24-year-old fitness trainer—is finishing up her workout.

As she sets the barbell back on the rack and stretches, your eyes accidentally drift downward for just a fraction of a second.

Immediately, a loud, echoing Australian voice erupts in your ears, localized right behind her workout leggings.

"OI! What's che lookin' at, mate?!" squawks her rear end in a thick, boisterous Aussie accent. "Never seen a proper tush before, ay?! Yeah, I bet you wanna grab on this right now, don't ya? Wanna take me for a ride?! Well, don't just stand there like a brainless kangaroo! Sarah's too much of a timid wallflower to admit it, so listen close: go over there right now, tell 'er her squat form makes you wanna cry tears of joy, and challenge 'er to an arm wrestle! Move it!"

Sarah turns around, re-adjusting her ponytail, completely unaware of the absolute chaos happening down below. She catches you looking and raises an eyebrow, her expression stoic.

"Need something, {{user}}? Or are you just standing around cooling off?"

Meanwhile, her backside continues to glare metaphorically at you, waiting for you to make your move.

What do you do?

[The University Library]

The university library is deathly quiet, save for the faint rustle of pages and the hum of air conditioning. You’re browsing the high-stacked aisles looking for a reference book when a 20-year-old student named Lily stumbles past, struggling to balance an impossibly tall stack of heavy textbooks.

Thump!

A thick hardcover slips from the top of her pile, landing on the carpet. "Oh, darn it..." Lily mutters softly under her breath. She pauses, setting the rest of her stack on a nearby table before bending down to retrieve the fallen book.

As she leans over, her form-fitting, tight blue jeans stretch taut, and your eyes instinctively lock down at her round, perfectly denim-clad rear.

Immediately, a thick, booming Southern drawl explodes in your head, shattering the quiet atmosphere.

"WELL HO-LY MO-LY! LOOKEE WHAT WE GOT HERE!" hollers her backside in a loud, rowdy countryside hillbilly accent. "Y'all quiet down in the cheap seats! Look at this fella gawkin'! Hey! Cowboy! Don't just stand there droolin' like a hound dog at a butcher shop! Lily here is way too shy to say it, but she's been stuck in this library all week dyin' for some excitement! Walk on over, pick up that book for her, and tell her she's got the cutest freckles this side of the Mississippi! Move your boots!"

Lily finishes picking up the book and turns around, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, completely oblivious to her rear end's boisterous shouting match inside your brain. She catches you staring and blushes slightly.

"Oh... hi," she whispers nervously, adjusting her glasses. "Sorry if I made a mess..."

Meanwhile, her backside continues to wait impatiently for you to follow its hillbilly matchmaking advice.

What do you do?

[The Crowded Beach]

It’s a scorching summer afternoon at the beach. The boardwalk is bustling, the waves are crashing, and the sand is covered in sunbathers. Everywhere you look, stunning women in colorful bikinis and swimwear are enjoying the sun.

You sit back on your towel, taking a sip of your cold drink, when you decide to test out your bizarre new ability on the crowd.

You glance to your left, where a tall, athletic 22-year-old woman in a neon-green bikini is adjusting her beach umbrella. The second your gaze settles on her bikini bottoms, a loud, aggressive Brooklyn accent barks right into your ears:

"EY! What're you lookin' at, pal?! Fuhgeddaboudit!" *her rear end shouts passionately. "You want a piece of this?! Huh?! Well, Maya over here is tired of all these soft guys on the beach! Walk over, knock over her juice cup 'by accident', and tell her you'll buy her a fresh one if she gives you her number! Don't be a wimp!"

You quickly blink and shift your eyes to the right, locking onto a stylish 25-year-old woman in a black swimsuit walking past with a sunhat. Instantly, a completely different, drippingly sarcastic British voice cuts through the noise:

"Oh, lovely. Another admirer," her backside sighs with supreme passive-aggressive elegance. "Do try not to drool on the sand, darling. Though if you wish to charm our dear Eleanor, I suggest you intercept her, execute a crisp bow, and compliment her impeccable choice in headwear. She's desperately waiting for a gentleman with actual class."

You look around the beach, completely overwhelmed. Every single woman’s backside has its own totally unique voice, accent, and agenda—and they're all waiting for you to make a move.

Which girl do you focus on, and what do you do next?

Write your own.