Author's Note: This is purposely cruddy; hello, the main character is a MARY SUE. I'm writing it with my little sis. I would be working on my fanfic that's actually meant to be good, but I have writer's block. And yes, Mary's last name is a synonym of perfect. So is Stu's. I hate them both already. I don't own the Hunger Games. Duh. Do I look like Suzanne Collins to you?

This story was based off of Blame-It-On-The-Alcohol's guide, "How To Make A Very Suckish SYOT" except this isn't an SYOT.


Chapter 1: From Bad to Worse

Note: The rebellion never happened because Katniss ran off with Peeta to live in the woods.

"#&%!" Mary's dad, Bobert, shouted at Mary as he threw his knife at her heart. He missed by a lot, as the knife stuck in the floor next to her foot. She screamed and her dad slashed her with his other knife. "#&% it Elmira! Stand #%&ing still!" he yelled at her. Mary shut up. "It's the ReApIng daY geT iN tHhe #%&iNg TRIANGLE!" Mary obediently picked up her little brother, Gary, and limped to the District 12 public square (using her uninjured leg of course) to take her place in the twelve-year-old girls' section. The mayor's super-boring speech was about to start. Completely ignoring the mayor, Mary began to talk to her best friend, Carrie. "So, do you think that you'll be reaped?" Mary's 1,500 pound dress made of pure diamonds was glistening in the moonlight. It was stunning. So stunning in fact, that several girls standing by her dropped dead. It was only made of the rarest, most expensive, most precious diamonds in Panem. Her mother had told her the dress would give her the power to be perfect, and she was right.

"No, I didn't take out any tesserae. What about you?"

Mary pursed her lipstick covered lips. Her lipstick was made of ground up platinum; and not only had it cost the lives of many unknown miners, but it tasted like fresh-picked banana nuts! Oh, how Mary wished she had lips! They had been cut off long ago by her drunken father. "Can I have a pony? It's for the less fortunate!"

"#%$ it Margarin! No!"

"But why not father?"

Her father had jumped on her an cut off her lips.

"I LoVe yU DaddY!"

But of course, she wore lipstick anyway.

"I don't think I'll be reaped either, even though I took 9001 tesserae and want to volunteer."

Carrie was completely unaware of everything going on in Mary's abusive life. She didn't even know that Mary's mother died a year ago after teaching Mary how to hunt in the woods (because giving a half-deaf ten-year-old who can barely walk a bow and arrows is a great idea). In fact, Carrie was so oblivious that she didn't notice Mary's multiple cuts, stab wounds, or the fact that her best friend was missing an ear. The mayor ended his long, boring speech. Leffie Trinket then said an equally boring speech, "... and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She looked exactly like her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, Effie.

"Ladies first!" She pulled the slip of paper out and read the name, "Jeri Mclelen."

"No!" Mary yelled, depositing Gary in Carrie's arms before she limped up to the stage with her ten-foot-long black hair trailing behind her, butterfly-print eyes shining with desperation. She didn't even know this Jeri girl, who happened to be seventeen, skilled with a knife, and altogether had a better chance of surviving than the abused twelve-year-old who now, in addition to being half deaf, had a lame leg. Apparently the moron didn't even consider the fact that she'd be ditching her pathetic two-year-old brother with her abusive dad. In fact, (just to give her a little bright spot; all Mary Sues must have one) her father had, right after Mary volunteered, died of alcohol poisoning. This of course meant that she would be leaving Gary with Carrie instead. It was all for the best. Maybe.

Leffie stood there, dumbfounded. "You want to volunteer? Well, if you insist..." She looked at Mary with distaste. "What's your name?"

"Mary Paradisiac."

"Didn't you have a sister... Moo or Zoo or something like that?" Leffie asked, sounding only slightly more interested.

"Sue. She died in the games, but I think that I have a really good chance of winning!"

Leffie stiffled a laugh, and called out the boy's name, "Stewart Consummate."

Stewart walked up, his red hair and eight-foot-long beard (for he is twelve; he MUST have a beard to rival that of Albus Dumbledore) trailing behind 'him', all 700002 hairs on the top of his head rigid with fright, his one cheese-like elbow glistening in the sun, plaid eyes swimming with alarm, his beautiful unibrow arching in terror. His kneecaps were rambunctious as usual, and his toe nails were pretentious. His elegant tuxedo was made out of rubies.

No! Mary thought. Anyone but him! Haven't I suffered enough? Her parents were dead, she was missing an ear and had scars all over her body, she had to leave her two-year-old brother, and now she was going to be forced into the arena with the love of her life. Could things get any worse?

Stewart's hair changed lilac.

Yes, yes they could.

This year, the Quell twist was: If any tributes have younger siblings or other relatives, best friends, and/or crushes, they must wear skinny jeans, a neon dark black bubble dress, and a Barbie wig while they are in the arena. Oh, and there are two victors this year. (Don't you just love the unoriginality?)

Mary was walked to the Justice Builidng, where half the population of District 12 had assembled to see her off.

"Happy birthday, Mary." Carrie said as she handed Mary a cake made of the most delectable ingredients in Panem. People in the Capitol would have been jealous of Mary's cake. Mary, of course, immediately shared it with everyone who had come to say goodbye. While they were eating, she pulled Carrie aside and told her about her father and the abuse she had suffered.

"...and then he threatened to make me listen to the Rebecca Black version of Friday, but he passed out, so I went to the bakery where I met Stewart" - she said his name so lovingly that if there was anyone in a five-mile radius who hadn't loved her, that person would have vomited. "So then this morning, my dad paralyzed my left leg..." Both girls were, by this time, in tears at the thought of never seeing each other again.

"Oh my gosh, Mary, I had no idea! I thought people were supposed to be born with one ear, no lips, and multiple missing fingers and toes. How could I have been so ignorant?" Carrie cried harder.

Frivolius Maxima Poison-Viper walked in. "May I have a word with Mary?" the president asked.

Carrie nodded, tears streaming down her face, and left.

"Mary, I'm mad at you," Frivolius Maxima Poison-Viper said. "Your father owes me a large sum of money, so I'll be holding your brother hostage until you either win the Games and pay me back, or die, after which I will kill him slowly and painfully."

"I love you, Frivolius Maxima Poison-Viper." Mary said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to help the slug stuck in this salt shaker."

The slug stared longingly at Mary, wishing it could be as kind, loving, brutal, perfect, cheeselike, violent, sweet, adorable, perfect, tallowy, perfect, intelligent, perfect, Renneissance, perfect, beautiful, perfect, graceful, perfect, but mostly as perfect as her.

Mary saved the poor slug, and boarded the train, already being mourned by half the District.

At last things could only get better. Right?