Hey everyone, so… I'm just going to start out with somewhat of a disclaimer. I love the Hunger Games, I used to love it more, but there is no doubt it's a great piece of American literature. I also love hilarious things. Oh! I also love fanfiction! So I decided, why not combine them? Thus, "Spare Only the Cute Guys" was born. Please, no hate. This is an SYOT, the tribute list will be on my profile, please PM me all of your applications for tributes. The SYOT form is also on my profile! Check it out!
WARNING: By agreeing to take part in this SYOT, you promise to not rag on this story. You may, however, share your opinion. I will PM just before the first chapter comes out, after all the tributes have signed up, if I have chosen your character to be the winner of "The I Hope You're Hungry For Death Games". If you are not that lucky person (and there will be only ONE winner), then, after the most recent post, I will PM you if your character will be dying in the next chapter. By signing up for this, you choose to have your character die in the way I choose, when I want to. I may tell you how you're tribute might die, if you're good, that is… again, sign up in a PM, not a review.
Thanks and happy Hope You're Hungry for Death Games, and may Oddness Be Forever Your Flavor! (I'm working on it, okay?)
Diamond
Oh, how I envy those tributes, up on the screen. I wish I could climb in there and scream "I volunteer" for each of them. It seems like so much fun! What a rush, being on live TV. Blood in your hands, passionately holding someone close (in order to use them as a human shield, of course). I wish I could be a tribute in the Hope You're Hungry For Death Games, but NOOOO, I'm stuck here in the lame old Capital. Oh! Look at this, while I was envying the over-priveliged super studs that are those lucky tributes, my Caviar got slightly less gelatinous.
"Get over here you disgusting slum!" I yell for my District Twelve servant, thank God we had her tongue cut up, she wouldn't stop blubbering about pita bread or something. "My Caviar has liquified. You better fix this, or I will hire a Cato to attack you at random. You will rue that you screw up the most important meal of the day for a growing child, their eighth one. Go on." I clap my hands and speak slowly, she probably doesn't know how to speak Zorblon, the language of the Capital.
"How Odair you bring me such horrid food. I want my Caviar thick, and the color of Primroses in ten minutes! Tick-tock, Katniss." I spit her name out of my teeth and go back to envying the tributes of the 138th Hope You're Hungry For Death Games... my life sucks.