She makes direct eye contact and goes straight to the point, with enthusiasm: "Hey. I'm really excited to share with you something I got!" And she claps three times. Try that after your opening line!
She makes a quick self-deprecating joke about how she'd just gone to Kohl's to return some clothes that didn't fit. "Surprisingly, it was a little too big."
She builds the suspense, as she tells us the gift is not for her kids but for her, and as she tries to open it off-camera. And more clapping, and some giggling in anticipation. What did she get?
Note that her delivery is not perfect, she allows for spontaneous remarks and difficulty getting to her point. This only deepens our connection to her and our interest in what she will reveal to us. We know for sure she has something to show us! She knows we're going to love it, because she knows she loves it! (Slick public speaking is a substitute for good ideas—and a poor one at that.)
"Stay patient," she tells her audience with her words and her eyes. "This is going to be worth it, I promise."
"Maybe not," she adds, and bursts out laughing, as we're about to tear the computer screen apart to see what she's trying to show us. "But it's worth it to me, and I had to share it with my friends on the Internet webs!"
And then she reveals it. And she shows you all its features. And she shows you how she loves it. And that's all she has to do, to make you love it too. And love her. And love yourself! And love all humanity, all at once, because you are suddenly aware that all humanity shares one person's simple joy.
"Y'all have an incredible day," she concludes, tears streaming down her face and yours. "It's the simple joys."
The essence of speechwriting is simple, too.