Well, we're back. Crap.
From the studio, Julie looks relatively normal, if a bit overdressed, in a formal red ball gown...until she comes down the steps and it turns out it's actually pants. She rarely disappoints on the sartorial front. As usual, she leads with the news of this season's "twist." Yes, there will be twelve new houseguests, but "four of the greatest houseguests of all time" will be joining them, to play their own game with its own rules and its own prize. We'll see how long that takes to fall apart.
The house's decor is more retina-battering than ever as we get the usual speech about the house full of cameras, microphones, and willing prisoners. The narrator adds that some "Big Brother legends (over headshots of freaking Rachel [don't even joke about that, show], Dan, Janelle, Enzo, Jeff, Mike Boogie, Evel Dick, Britney, and Dr. Will), will return to change the game, and also that one houseguest will leave before the night is over. That last part is the best news yet.
Back in the otherwise empty studio, Julie reiterates that four former houseguests are coming back, but this time as coaches rather than players. She's not telling us who they are yet, at least not until we meet the virgins.
Cue the not-at-all-staged montage of newbies "discovering" their invitations while going about their everyday lives, in which they are apparently followed by CBS cameras at all times. We start with Frank from Naples, FL, who claims to be the biggest Big Brother fan ever. Of all the people I've heard say that, at least one of them has to be wrong. Frank claims to have been prepping for the game by getting in shape and "reading strategic books." And dressing and coiffing himself like a character from Wet Hot American Summer while he's at it.
Moving on to Danielle, a self-described "Southern girl" and nurse from Tuscaloosa, AL. She also says she's very girly, which I guess is all that the editors think we need to know.
And then we're in Bennington, VT, to meet Shane, who claims to be a house-flipper but looks more like "construction guy" in a pinup calendar. With an assist from the editors, of course. He's got five houses on his hands right now, so a half-million-dollar prize would...well, let's face it, make a very small dent.