Causo

 Title: The Bachelorette: The Awkward Exam

The contestants—15 confident men, each hoping to win the heart of the beautiful bachelorette—file into a large, sterile medical room. The air is thick with tension, and the buzz of the cameras sounds faint in the background. A woman doctor in scrubs stands by a large balance scale, accompanied by a nurse, two camera operators, and an ever-watchful producer in the corner. The room is cold, the lights bright, and the guys’ nerves are palpable.

“Gentlemen, welcome to your medical examination,” the doctor says in a professional yet oddly friendly tone. “Before we proceed, I’ll need you all to strip down to your underwear, please.”

The men exchange glances, some rolling their eyes in disbelief, others visibly uneasy. One contestant, Jack, raises his hand.

“Wait, hold on a second,” he says, his voice shaky. “Are you serious? Like, actually serious?”

The doctor, unfazed, nods. “I’m very serious. This is a requirement for the show’s medical clearance. We need to make sure you’re fit for the physical challenges.”

A murmur of discomfort ripples through the group. There’s an awkward pause, and then, slowly, they all begin to peel off their shirts and pants. Some try to act casual, others fumble nervously. The camera zooms in on their awkward faces, catching their discomfort as they strip down to their underwear.

Toby, the youngest contestant, mutters under his breath, “This is insane...”

Chris, the oldest and most experienced contestant, lets out a half-laugh, trying to ease the tension. “Hey, man, we’re all in this together. We just gotta roll with it.”

As the men stand there in their boxers and briefs, the doctor starts with the basics.

“Let’s begin with some routine measurements,” she instructs, motioning to the nurse, who pulls out a height chart and a blood pressure cuff. One by one, the men step forward, their faces a mixture of embarrassment and stoic determination as their height and pressure are measured.

But when the doctor suddenly announces, “Alright, now, I’ll need you all to strip completely for the next part,” the room goes dead silent.

A few guys look at each other, then back at the doctor. Alex, the fitness enthusiast, squints his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Wait—what? Naked? Are you serious?”

The doctor doesn’t break her professional gaze. “Yes, I’m serious. Please, gentlemen, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

The men freeze. The reality of the situation starts to settle in. They’re about to be filmed naked for the entire country to see. Some look around nervously, while others, like Ethan, the prankster of the group, can’t help but laugh.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Ethan mutters, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He pulls off his boxers with exaggerated flair, making a show of it, but the other men follow suit reluctantly.

As they all stand there, naked now, the air feels even colder. James, the guy with the model looks, coughs awkwardly. “I... I didn’t sign up for this.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as they all take in the absurdity of the situation. Then, like a bizarre icebreaker, they all start to laugh. Nervous, half-choked laughs.

“Does this feel as weird as it looks?” Luke asks, trying to break the tension.

“Definitely,” replies Tom, rubbing his face with one hand. “I think I’m gonna need therapy after this.”

The doctor, who has remained cool and composed, motions them toward the scale. “Alright, gentlemen, one at a time, please step on the scale for your weight check.”

One by one, they shuffle to the scale, their hands awkwardly trying to cover themselves, but it doesn’t help much. Ryan, who’s last in line, looks at the camera in disbelief. “This is seriously happening, isn’t it?”

The camera zooms in on his face. The producer, from behind the lens, calls out, “Yep, this is your life now.”

After they’re all weighed, the doctor puts on a fresh set of gloves, her tone still clinical. “Next step,” she says as she turns to Greg, who looks about ready to pass out. “I need to examine you more thoroughly. Please, turn around.”

The men wince collectively. Josh, in the back of the room, mutters to no one in particular, “This is going to be so awkward.”

The doctor moves closer, her voice steady. “Gentlemen, I’ll need to perform a basic test. Please cough when I ask.”

The first contestant, Michael, looks like he might actually pass out. The doctor touches his groin, and his face turns bright red. “Cough,” she says.

Michael coughs—his face as red as a tomato. He steps away, relieved to be done. “That was... something else.”

The rest of the guys follow suit. One by one, they go through the same procedure. The room fills with stifled laughs and awkward glances as each man tries to hold it together.

Once the exams are done, they quickly scramble to get dressed, some of them still muttering about the surreal experience.

Chris, buttoning up his shirt, looks at the group. “Alright, so... was this really necessary?”

Jack, his voice tinged with frustration, answers, “I’m just trying to figure out if I’m even gonna survive the actual show if this is how they’re starting things off.”

The men gather in the corner, still awkwardly readjusting their clothing, when Ethan cracks a joke, “Well, at least we’re all in this ‘together,’ right?”

Ryan laughs bitterly. “Yeah, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starting to think maybe I signed up for the wrong show.”

As they leave the room, their minds swirl with questions. Was it worth it? Could they really endure the craziness ahead to win the heart of the bachelorette? Or would they find themselves rethinking their decision long before they even made it to the first rose ceremony?

As they walk down the hall, the reality of the situation begins to sink in.

This wasn’t just about winning her heart. It was about surviving the madness of The Bachelorette.