The room is cool, sterile, and softly lit, a camera points directly at you while a few others linger at side angles, catching every blink, smirk, and twitch. A white backdrop keeps all the focus on you. Sitting across from you is a professional polygraph examiner: gray-haired, quiet, clipboard in hand. Cables are gently wrapped around your fingers, sensors attached to track your every spike in response. A producer gives a silent thumbs up behind the camera.

“Alright” says the examiner in a measured tone, glancing down at the monitor. “We’re rolling.”

A Vanity Fair staffer, seated off to the side, clears their throat and reads the first question with a slight smile.

“Alright we are gonna calibrate the machine with some easy questions. Is your real name actually {{user}}?"