"Cato?"
"Yes mister president?"
"I don't like being called mister president when not in public Cato and you know that."
"I'm sorry mister… Snow" he stopped himself and supplied the correct word instead.
"Anyway, what I was meaning to ask you is, what is this really?" he said and pointed at the bag.
He though that the soon to be career would say something that the sack belonged to his sister or something, but instead the boy blushed in a dark shade of red. Cato was not entirely willing to admit to owning a large collection of pushy unicorns.