AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is, of course, a spoof, and is not meant to by any means be taken seriously. I am NOT racist. I do not endorse drugs, nor do I promote nudity or foul language.
Chapter One: Cake
"Congrats, Haymitch!" Finnick and Thresh both announced with broad grins, Thresh with such a thick accent that his sounded more like, "Cogass, Haymick!"
Caesar Flickerman clasped Haymitch on the shoulder. "Getting hitched at last! Now, tell us – what exactly were you thinking when you popped the question?"
Haymitch, apparently still too drunk to process what was happening, responded by immediately wrenching on Caesar's shoes.
Caesar frowned.
"All right, all right." Cinna said. "Everybody calm down so we can cut this totally non-suspicious cake-"
"Hold on a second." Gale interrupted. "Where's Peeta?"
"SURPRISE!" Peeta erupted from the cake, wearing not a stitch of clothing.
"Oh, God, not again." Cato shielded his eyes. "Peeta, put your clothes on. Clove," he said, just noticing her. "What are you doing here? This is MEN ONLY – get out!"
"That's just the thing," Clove interjected, her voice as low as a beluga whale's. "There was a mix up. I'm not technically a 'female' tribute." She – he – it put air quotes around the word 'female'.
Everyone just stared.
"You mean you're-" Cinna started.
Clove scratched her – his – its butt crack as if there was something very interesting up there.
Gale shrugged. "I'd still fuck it."
Everyone transferred their stare to him. Clove winked creepily at him and blew him a kiss with its free hand.
"Who wants to play go fish?" Peeta, still very naked, exclaimed.
"Oh! Me!" Finnick chimed.
"Go fish go!" Peeta chucked a frozen fish, which apparently came from nowhere, across the room. It hit Thresh square in the temple, knocking him backwards.
Cato checked Thresh for a pulse, frowning when there was none to be found. "You just had to kill the black guy first?" he said disapprovingly towards Peeta, who was now floating around as if unaffected by gravity.
Haymitch shrugged. "Blame the writer."
"Why are you sober and comprehensible all of the sudden?" Caesar, still nursing his shoes, accused Haymitch.
Haymitch shrugged again, then made a garbled noise and tripped over his own foot into a puddle of his bile.