A/N:Part 2 is up! Sorry for making you wait so long - it's the last few weeks of school and the teachers are literally growing us in homework. Part 3 will be up... whenever I can finish it. By the way, please read Haymitch's large chunks of text on strategies - I promise, it'll be worth it! Thank you for putting up with me; and thanks to BalladOfNight, Tetanahayna and Wetstar for reviewing! And the rest of you who read, but don't review - PLEASE DO! Review, I mean.

Part 2 – Haymitch Abernarthy

"I'm blonde – what's your excuse?"

-Reese Witherspoon

"So… like, where are the toilets again?" I lean back against a cushion, fiddling with a loose string.

"They are down the hall, first door to the left, Miss Abernarthy," the attendant says through gritted teeth. I have no idea why – it's only the fourth time I've asked that question.

"Okay, thanks. Can I have your number?"

"Why?"

"In case I forget where the toilets are. Where are they again?"

"I'll leave you to the Tributes, Miss Abernarthy." He backs out with a stiff-limbed bow.

I stare at a spot on the wall, smiling faintly.

!~!

"Haymitch?"

I turn my head blearily. The spot on the wall hasn't moved for the past two hours. It wouldn't move, I decide finally, and turn to greet the newcomers.

An ape ducks into the car first. I scream, and throw a pillow at it. When it stares at me in confusion, I scream again.

"Security! Security! Security! Security!" I shriek. "Monkey in the car! Monkey in the car! Monkey in the – oh. Hello, Effie." I realize that it is him when I see his outfit; Effie, always well-dressed.

"Nice to see you too, dearest," I chirp, when he gives me a glare to wake the dead. I shudder. That's not something I'd want to go through again - the corpses stink.

Two figures follow Effie into the car. The first, a handsome, wiry boy, strides in confidently and flashes me a winning smile. I beam at him and waggle a flaunty hand back. He is closely followed by a busty girl, dressed in a beautiful green skirt and fleece sweater, with a mockingjay on her shoulder – chirping merrily – and a baby deer (What were they called again? Fyawns?) in her arms, looking quite content.

I rose from my seat unsteadily and made their acquaintance – Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. I could tell that both of them had a good chance. Already, my mind was beginning to formulate a plan for each of them. Yes. Perfect. So very, very, very, very, cheese, very, very, very, very, I'm hungry, very, very, very, very, very perfect.

Mmm. Chocolate.

!~!

"Okay, so, Katniss, what are your strengths?" It was the next morning, we were still on the train, my hair was an absolute mess, and drilling Katniss on how to stay alive was the least of my worries. But, I did have to do it. It was my civic duty, after all - to deliver these two children to their deaths.

"Well, I'm incredibly strong, fast, handsome, charming, agile, smart, clever, witty, awesome, amazing, excellent, smooth, honest, caring, polite, responsible, self-controlled, patient, creative, out-going, muscular, competitive, friendly, studious, calm, tidy and have great teeth. And that's about it, really." He frowns and scratches his strong chin thoughtfully.

"Excellent! Excellent! Oh, I have so much to work with! You and I will get along splendidly!" I trill in a high voice.

He glances at me. "So, gorgeous blonde woman who I have no idea of the name of, what's my strategy?"

"Here's what you will do. You're going to run away from everyone, fast as you can. Don't worry about grabbing anything… just run. Run, run, as fast as you can. No one will catch you, because you're the District 12 man…" I trailed off in a singsongy voice.

He snaps his fingers in my face. "Keep it together, tootz. What's my strategy?"

"Right. So, after you finish running, you climb a tree. Then, you rip the arms off your jacket and flex your biceps. You have to flex like you've never flexed before. You must reach deep within to bring out the power of the flex. Use the flex, Luke – I mean, Katniss. Um…And then, a shower of parachutes will almost certainly squash you. Then, you can take whatever's in there and build a treehouse out of it. And you can live in there with all the little squirrellies and the mousies and the fire-breathing dragonies." I clap my hands together gleefully. "Oh, it will be a Hunger Games to remember! Then, you just outlast everyone else by living off the tree bark, air and tracker jacker excrement."

He screws up his face in confusion. "Lady, how exactly did you win the 50th Hunger Games?"

"Why do you ask?"

!~!

"Okay, Peeta, here's your strategy," I turn to the girl as she blinks her huge eyes at me. "You… aw, you're so cute. I could just pick you up and bite your little head off. Anyhoo, when the gong goes off or whatever, you need to skip – skip, not run – to the Cornucopia. Don't touch any corpses. They're icky and will get your dress dirty. You need to get to a blow-dryer. There will be a pile of trinkets – necklaces, bracelets, rings – but you want something useful. And nothing is more useless in the Arena than a bad hair day. So get that blow-dryer! And," I shrug, "grab anything else that suits your fancy. Ooh! That's a nice phrase… suits your fancyyyyyyyy… Anyhoo, then you skip to the forest, singing loudly and impossibly beautifully, like you do. It is likely, that on your way there, you will meet another Tribute that you need to kill. If so, I assume that you a master of karate?"

Peeta nods, smiling winningly. "Of course, Miss Haymitch."

"So, you will use your karate skills to kill him-"

"But, Miss Haymitch, killing people is wrong!" Peeta's eyes well up with tears.

Effie, from the other side of the car, asks, "Like, what do you think you're in the Hunger Games for, dummy?"

"To lose weight, of course!" Peeta begins to cry. Hundreds of tears pour down her heart-shaped, unblemished face. Unsurprisingly, her face neither puffs up or goes red, like it would with anyone else. "It's the Hunger Games! I thought we'd be hungry for a while, drop 15 pounds and go home!"

Katniss stares disbelievingly at her. "Where have you been for the last 74 years?"

"Anyhoo! After you've, ah, killed him – we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, sweetheart," I soothe, glancing, slightly terrified, at Peeta's horrified face. I'm not used to kids and their inability to kill other kids! "You will run into the woods, or whatever the arena is. There, animals will be attracted to you, and form, well, sort of a defense force. They, although they've only just met you and are animals, will protect you with their lives. Then, two days later – no more, no less – you will go out and find a handsome, wounded male Tribute. He must be EXTREMELY HANDSOME! Note the three exclamation points, Peeta. That's how handsome he must be. Anyhoo, then you will nurse him back to health, regardless of the fact that you have no basic medical skills or medicines and that he is on the brink of death, and he will fall in love with you when he wakes up. Then, you will kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss, and the Capitol audience will fall in love with you two and smile with heart-warmed gladness. And they will shower you with blow-dryers and other tools of beauty, and if you win, you win, and if you die, well, you die happy and in love."

"And skinny!"

"Yes, and skinny too."

"Alright, fine, lady," Katniss moans, rolling his eyes. "Then what do we do for our interviews?"

"Um… do what I did 24 years ago."

"Which was?"

"Remain silent when Caesar asks you any questions, and just mutter at the end that you don't know how to turn on a spear." I frown, still confuzzled about that matter. Spears did, and still don't have an On button.

Katniss buries his face in his hands. "We're going to die!"

"Oh, you're welcome, sweetie!" I beam and walk over to the dessert cart to search for something scrummy to put in my tummy. Mmm. Scrummy. Tummy. Those two words rhyme! I feel an inner bubble of pride swell up in my brain as I pop a chocolate cream tart into my ear, before remembering myself, and placing it in my mouth instead.

A/N:Hehe. Haymitch was fun to write. Effie's up next *MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!*