Ryth - Reacting To Female Zach D Films.

Episode Date: July 7, 2026

Reacting To Female Zach D Films.Zach D Films has a female clone that goes by the name of "Her Story." Today Ryth is reacting to this Zach D Films clone, it's a crazy ending.

Yo, so yesterday I recorded a video on a Zach D. Films clone called His Story. You guys really enjoyed that video, and when I woke up this morning, I found the YouTube channel Her Story. The videos were so wild, you can twist my titty in New York City. I was sitting in class when I saw my own face on the laptop next to me. Sorry, but what kind of pervert activity did I just get thrown into? One of your classmates just casually has a video view on his laptop? Uh, that's totally not creepy. Then every phone in the room buzzed at once, and my face started talking on every...

Every screen. Damn, what the hell happened? Did a video of you saying the N-word get leaked? In the video, I said, I'm the one who's been drawing on the cancer kid's head while he sleeps at lunch. Kids with cancer make me laugh. Wow, well, uh, that is one hell of a thing to say to get canceled and show the entire school. Make sure you kiss goodbye all future job opportunities. My heart stopped, because I never said that. Every head turned to stare at me like I was a monster, and I stood up so fast my chair tipped over. That's not true. That's not me. Oh, so you're saying it's AI generated? Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised. These AI, these AI, videos were getting way too convincing. The door slammed open and the principal pointed at me. You, my office, now. That's a very interesting choice of words for a girl that's in elementary school. And it doesn't make it any better that you look like a Catholic priest. He dragged me out while my

own voice kept confessing from 30 phones behind me. My question is, why the hell would you even want to record yourself saying that cancer kids make you laugh? I guess some people just want to watch other people's worlds burn. Someone had put those words in my mouth and I had no idea who. In the office, The kids sat crying with cruel words scribbled across his bald head in permanent marker. How insane to write the phrase, it's not worse. Dude, he already got the Cayu special. It couldn't get any worse than that. His mom had both hands clamped on his dad's arm.

The principal spoke before the door even closed. We saw the video you posted. Expulsion is already in motion. So let me get this straight. When AI videos are at an all-time high, you had no suspicion that the video might be fake. Guys, how old is the staff? Were they born during the silent generation?

My whole body went cold at the word expulsion. That video is fake. It's AI. I would never do that to him. His dad ripped his arm free and stood up. We can all see it's used. Clearly Homeboy doesn't know what AI generated videos are. I can generate a video of this guy making out with James Charles, so it must be him, right?

Nobody in that room believed me, but I wasn't going down for something I didn't do. Give me 10 minutes, and I'll prove it wasn't me. I was bluffing. So you're bluffing? What are you bluffing about? Did you actually write on the cancer kid? If so, holy shit, you got the dog in you. The principal was quiet for a long moment, then said,

Okay, I sat in the hallway and scrubbed the video frame by frame, hunting for proof. Then I saw it. The neck was a slightly different color than the face, like my face was pasted onto somebody else's body. And you're telling me, none of them could figure out that somebody was making a deep fake of you. Holy shit, the staff might actually be from the boomer generation. This wasn't an AI video. Someone had filmed themselves saying it and swapped my face onto theirs.

Wow, girl, so perceptive. Still the same shit. I kept scrubbing for the body under my face and froze on one frame. A black TV hung on the wall, and the face swap had missed its reflection. Bro, who the hell is that in the reflection? Is that Titan from Megamine? A real face, faint, staring out of the dark screen. I knew exactly who did this and what to do.

I'm sorry, but if I was the guy that made the original video, I cannot be this stupid to not point that out in the footage before I hit publish. If you're going to publish a video this mongrel, you got to do it right. I found him at his locker, the most popular kid in school. I hit record, slid the phone into my pocket camera out, and walked up. Okay, but you're just record. The guy with the AI video is still doing better than you. Good luck convincing those boomers.

Your face swap missed the TV behind you, and I saw your reflection. He leaned back against his locker and smirked. Nobody will believe you over me. The principal was about to catch me, so I made you say it for me. Have fun getting expelled. My question is, why do you have such a deep, dark desire to tell everybody that you don't like cancer, kids? This is just another kind of evil. My face went red, but I kept my voice steady.

So kids with cancer make you laugh? He laughed right into the camera he didn't know was there. Their bald heads make a perfect canvas. Yeah, easy for you to say you and your Ron Weasley-ass hair. He framed me with a fake video, so I ended him with a real one. I hit post before he could move, and halfway down the hall, every phone buzzed at once. Oh, so you did record him. I thought you were just recording audio.

I guess one of your eyeballs might have the meta-AI or some shit. The principal was already watching it when I walked in. He was expelled before the end of the day. At lunch, half the school lined up to cover his bald head in encouraging messages instead, and the kid handed me the marker first. Aw, so cute. Oh, that kid's shower later is going to have to involve some real elbow grease to get that off. My mom saw conjoined twins on the news when my twin sister, Maron, and I were seven.

Oh, brother, I can only imagine where this is going. What's going to happen? Your mom's going to become some psychopath and wants to make you guys conjoined? If you two had been born conjoined, we'd be millionaires. Yep, what did I tell you? We'd be millionaires. Why couldn't you just be born with one of the worst disabilities of all time? That night, she came out of her sewing room holding two outfits stitched together at the sides. Put these on and walk to the door and back.

Mother, are we being dead ass right now? She's actually wanting them to rehearse this shit. Two seven-year-old kids. We stumbled over each other while she recorded us on her phone. This is perfect. We're going to be rich. Yeah, you might want to cut that part out. Casually posting a video to the internet of your two young daughters and saying,

oh, we're going to be rich. Not a very good look. She sat us down and drilled our story into us. You are conjoined and you share a liver. If you are separated, you will both die. Wow, what a terrible thing to say to your two young kids. If you two are separated, you're going to die. She pressed our sides to.

together every morning with industrial glue that burned our skin and booked us at medical conventions, charging $100 for people to take photos with us. She actually just became a zookeeper overnight. Holy shit. After a year, Maron stopped complaining about the glue and started saying, we, when she meant herself. Oh, God, the body dysmorphia's already happening. The lesson I'm learning audience is you do not want to conjoined your two seven-year-old daughters. During a photo shoot, she grabbed my arm when I scratched at the adhesive.

Stop it. You're hurting us. Of course, it's the girl with the blue hair as well. I'm telling you, there's just something. about blue hair and women that causes mental illness. I whispered back that none of it was real, and she looked at me like I had said something unforgivable. Yeah, Miss Blue Hair, that was not the wind.

This shit is not real. Bro, she was looking at her sister like she was blaspheming over the Holy Spirit. That's when I realized I was losing her to the lie. That night, Mom sat us down again with a huge grin. I found a surgeon in Mexico who can make you girls real conjoined twins. First off, what the hell? Second off, why would you go to Mexico? Mexico has like, oh, I don't know.

worst surgeons of all time? My whole body went cold and Maron started crying with joy. Yay, we'll never be a part again. Wait just a minute. You're on board with this? How preposterous that you're on board with spending money to become the worst disability ever. I tried to speak, but I couldn't. Mom smiled and stroked Maron's hair.

The surgery is in three weeks. It's already scheduled too. Oh my God. Well, you better enjoy the last 21 days of life like it's the best thing ever. After everyone went to bed, I locked myself in the bathroom, called CPS, and told them exactly when to About time you've had a logical thought go into your brain? You should have called child protective services like yesterday. The morning we were supposed to leave the social workers knocked on the door.

Mom pulled us against her chest. We're flying to Mexico to see a specialist who might help them live more normal lives. Firing squad, ladies and gentlemen, this is the only way. Listen, I love my older brothers, but I cannot be super glued to them for the rest of my life. I watched their faces go soft and realized they were buying it. I whispered, I'm sorry, Maherin. Then I grabbed the doorframe and ripped myself away from her. Wow, that must have been overstimulating for Miss Blue.

hair getting ripped apart from the outfit and not to mention the super glue that must have hurt he screamed and fell and i stood there bleeding completely separate for the first time in two years ugh two years i can only imagine around the glue area you must be stinky she glues us together every morning look at my hip it is not a medical condition it's glue i turn to maran sobbing on the floor tell them the truth i mean to be fair girl what's the point of telling the truth when you just shown them the truth clearly you don't need a mexican doctor because you just performed the surgery right before their very eyes. Maherne looked at the blood running down our sides and wiped her eyes. None of it is real, she whispered. I just wanted it to be because at least then there would be a reason for all of this. That's got to be the worst logic I've ever heard in my life. Yeah, we've already wasted two years of our lives. Let's just waste the rest.

Our mom went to jail that day, and we burned all of the clothes she had stitched together. Wamp, Wamp, mother. At least the two kids got a really good inheritance, though. My daughter jumped into a foam pit and completely disappeared. And then she died. Okay, I seriously need to chill out. She leapt in for the third time and got submerged by the first time. balls. Crazy sentence, but okay. But this time, after 10 seconds, she still hadn't surfaced. I called out

Casey, but after another 10 seconds, I jumped in. Okay, maybe she actually did die. Now, I'm the one that feels like a douchebag. I chucked foam blocks out of my way as fast as I could while other parents looked on, but after tearing through the entire foam pit, I still couldn't find Casey. You know, I wouldn't be surprised that Diddy was at the bottom of the foam pit, just waiting for his prey. I mean, it wouldn't make sense. There would be no witnesses. I gripped my head, shaking in fear. How could my daughter just disappear inside a foam pit? I called over workers and parents, and we dug through every phone block screaming Casey's name.

Listen, if the girl's been unresponsive for over half an hour, I think we all know what happened. Whop, Wop, Mom, you lost her daughter, go back to the drawing board, go back to the bedroom. A worker put his hand on my shoulder. Are you sure your daughter jumped in? I screamed yes, and he pulled up the footage. We watched Casey Cannonball in and never come back up.

I'm telling you guys, it had to be Diddy. If it's not Diddy, I'm going to be pleasantly surprised. It's like she traveled through a portal. I was shaking and crying. And when police arrived, they locked down the entire trampoline park. We promise we'll find your daughter. How much do you want to bet that they're not going to find shit? Just like the baby oil, Diddy's going to slip between your fingers.

My legs trembled as I thought back to Casey jumping in. The officers came out an hour later with their hats in their hands. We're sorry, ma'am, Casey isn't inside. Well, so much for making a promise, you fed. I'm not surprised the police didn't find them. They probably just looked around for 10 seconds and thought, eh, we tried. My world shattered.

I got in my car and drove around through the night. But two days later, I was at home holding Casey's stuffed bear looking at her missing persons report. So after two days you decided to make the missing child report. You must not be very motivated to find your kid. Then my doorbell rang, and when I opened the same worker from the trampoline park was looking at me with red eyes. I figured out what happened. It was Diddy!

He explained that he'd found a tiny slit cut into the net at the bottom of the foam pit. Underneath the pit was a crawl space with a service hatch that led out to the parking lot. So you're telling me, this girl fell through all of that and still nobody's seen her whereabouts. This story's just getting juicier by the second. He looked at me with shaking hands. Someone was waiting down there, ma'am. When Casey jumped in, he reached up through the slit, pulled her down with him, and closed the patch with the Velcro strap. Listen, I know I've said this for the past five minutes, but that has got to be the most ditty activity I've ever seen in my life.

If you guys aren't convinced it's either that or Epstein, I don't know what will. From above, the pit looked normal. I realized Casey didn't disappear. Someone kidnapped her and used the underneath area of a foam pit to do it. That was the end of the video. So what? There's no follow up to your daughter's kidnapping. It's just the end of the story just like that.

Oh, goodbye, daughter! When I was doing deadlifts in PE, my classmate Bill stormed over to me smirking. Did you actually make the national powerlifting team? Yeah, and did Bill make the national food packing team? I told him yes, and he immediately squeezed my bicep and turned to his friends behind him. Oh, so now we're just groping women now. This is what I mean when I say girls are weak. Even she made it.

Really rich coming from you, Fatso? I'd like to see you two duke it out in a ring and see what happens. I wasn't going to say anything, but then he announced to the class that he could beat me in a push-up contest. You're joking, right? Listen, Bill, I know you probably weigh the same amount as a G-wagon, but still, come on, man. He dropped down before I could respond, and as a crowd formed, I decided to just embarrass him. Somebody's falling for the rage bait. Listen, girl, if you get your ass handed to by this kid, you are actually going to lose all your aura.

Someone yelled, go, and I quickly did one push-up and told Bill to match it, but he smirked and went down, pressing himself up easier than I did. Wow, uh, he may be fat, but he might have better form than you. You might be in some real trouble, girl. I was confused because he weighed like 300 pounds, but figured I'd just beat him on endurance. I started propelling myself off the floor like I'd done thousands of times. But every time I looked up, Bill was somehow keeping pace. We hit 40, then 50. Wait, wait, stop just a second. You guys already made it to 50 push-ups. And Mr. Fatsso hasn't dropped dead yet. Yeah, there's definitely something weird going on. Everyone shouted, and Bill was barely sweating. At 75, my arms began shaking while Bill kept going like he was a robot. To me, it seems like you barked up the wrong tree. Don't judge a book by its cover, even though the cover is thicker than the King James Bible. His friends cheered and I met. mouthed, what the hell? My triceps collapsed at 114, and Bill slowly did his 115th, seemingly mocking me. To me, it seems like you met your match. I'm sorry, guys. I really looked down on Bill. I didn't realize he was that tough. He stood up and laughed. I told you so. He put his arms

in the air celebrating to the crowd while I stood there catching my breath. In disbelief, someone so heavy could do that. Well, girl, there's a reason why Snorlax has such good stats on Pokemon. Not all fat asses are weak. But then I noticed an elastic strap sticking out near his arm under his t-shirt. My eyes went wide and I instantly yanked his shirt up and gasped. Bill had strapped an elite-level powerlifting band under his arms and across his chest. Every time he dropped down, the band stretched and sprung him back up by itself. Ooh, I had no idea those existed. Probably because I'm not a little bitch. He could do a million push-ups with it. His face went pale as I ripped the band off. Go again. He tried to refuse,

but our classmates forced him down. Bill did one, shook through the second, and on the third push-up, he dropped face down. Shit, I'm willing to wager that he probably just died. If my big-o-ass weighed 300 pounds, I would probably struggle on push-ups too. hitting his nose on the hardwood as he didn't even try to get up. I continued doing clean reps with my best friend on my back, while he heaved after just three push-ups. So essentially you took him to Mockington City. Congratulations, girl, you got back your aura.

My mom shoved her waffle across the table at me one morning and said, I just don't think it's fair. We need to fatten you up. She really said, damn, girl, we need to fat your skinny ass up. Eggos, bitch! It started with bigger portions and unwanted second helpings. Then she cleared the house and replaced everything with frozen fried food and snacks.

Mother, are you like trying to give your dad? daughter a heart attack? All those snacks and fried food cannot be good for her health. A few weeks later, she slid a pamphlet across the table. I made you an appointment with a weight gain nutritionist. You need to be at a healthy weight. Okay, sure, maybe she can get to that weight, but the word healthy is already relative. If all she's eating is damn egos and hot pockets, that is not how you do it. I weighed 132 pounds. I wasn't about to let her control my body, so I started faking it. I stuffed a tank top with padding and wore it under everything. Mom measured my waist, wrote the number down, and smiled like she'd won something.

That is a very deranged and demented facial expression. Good God. I kept a food journal and read my fake entries out loud like lottery numbers. Three slices of pizza. A milkshake, fries, and a soda. I'm so proud of you. Sorry, but I thought that we were going to a health nutritionist to get to a healthy weight. Healthy.

Three slices of pizza, ice cream, and soda is not the way. This is not the method. And she'd lean back and say, see, this is all you had to do. I kept eating normally and fed the extras to the dog. Oh, yeah, because let's just make the dog die of a heart attack. Like mom's not going to notice the Aunt Jemima pancake syrup on the dog's now. Then she started posing us for photos together. Soon I'll be smaller than you.

The face of a psychopath. And then she announced a family dinner to celebrate my progress. Every aunt, uncle, and cousin. I put the padding on under a sundress and told myself I just had to get through one night. Getting through one night! You look like you're about to get through a wall with your Kool-Aid man ass, Bill. My aunt pulled me into a hug and I felt the padding shift. Something dropped.

My cousin grabbed my arm. What is that? The whole family was staring at the padding on the floor. His mom's face moved through confusion, then understanding, then rage. Damn, you're really putting your mother through the five stages of grief. Holy shit. Then again, I can understand a little bit because, uh, all that food had to cost a lot of money. I reached down to grab it.

Then my grandma looked my mom up and down and said, Honey, have you gained weight? Mom's mouth went tight. She didn't answer. I put the padding down, picked up my fork, and started eating. You are so gonna get your ass beat later. Crazy story though. Anyways, audience, I'm gonna go record some YouTube shorts.