Hey, guys. I'm sorry I took so long to update. I blame state tests and my own laziness. Anyways, once this chapter is finished, I can just upload all of of the reaping chapters quickly. There are a few edits that I want to do to it, but I should be able to update more quickly.

Sadly, I lost most of my old audience when my story got deleted. Ah, well, hopefully I'll regain it over time. Now on to the mutts.

Finally, I can see my desk again. There's a neat pile of papers in one corner, but it's only an inch or so thick. Now that it's finally clean, any paper that accummulates is quickly dealt with. I'm sure that it'll soon gather up again, though. If I can just get through this week, I can quit most of the paperwork. Once I dealt with it, it actually wasn't so bad. I'm not going to admit it and prove Gimbol right, though. He really doesn't need another boost to his ego.

Checking my watch, I straighten my tie and quickly leave. I have to go down and meet Gimbol at the Mutts Center. Apparently we've had a few problems, but Gimbol will explain those when I get there. I've been avoiding the mutts as long as I could, but now I have to face it. We only have a few weeks until the games, and we need at least a week to safely integrate the mutts in to the Arena.

Downstairs, I run in to Gimbol, who is obviously very frazzled. His hair sticks out in many directions and his tie is crumpled and crooked. He gives me a salute and I sigh.

"Gimbol," I ask, "Wouldn't it have been easier to just use the holographs again? I'm busy." He gives me a look.

"With all due respect, sir, last I checked you were flirting with that one girl from Maitnence. Also, the arena hologram was a test and funded by the President. We don't have the kind of time or money to make another one for the mutts."

I sigh. "Whatever, Gimbol. Just show me the mutts." He nods, and runs his hand over an access scanner in the wall. A door in the wall opens to reveal an elevator and we step in.

"As I'm sure you remember, sir, you haven't been down to the mutts center since it was emptied out. I'm afraid we're a bit behind schedule because you've been neglecting-"

"We're always behind schedule."

"Er, yes, sir. Anyways, we have a few problems. I'll show you. The most important ones are the monkeys."

I yawn. "You told me they're not adapting and they're dying, right?"

He nods. The elevator dings and we step out on to the mutts level. The first thing that hits me is the smell. I hate doing the mutts every year. I'm not really one for animals, and animals that are programmed to kill are even worse. And when they smell...

Gimbol interrupts my thoughts. "The monkeys are over here, sir."

I look sideways in to a glass enclosure. I see flashes of colors weaving around some wooden and rope structures. Then enclosure is big, and about two floors high. On the bottom, some heavily armored caretakers are cleaning the food and water and injecting the monkeys with formulas. The monkeys are multicolored, some in shockingly bright colors and others in more natural tones. Most of them are flopping around and looking miserable, or at least as miserable as a monkey can look.

Gimbol touches the glass. "Yeah, the formulas are wrong, we think. A wrong mix of chemicals for their metabolism."

"I thought they were supposed to be aggressive."

"We're not injecting them with aggression hormones until we integrate them in to the arena. We're also going to add a type of the agression hormones in to all the water in to the arena. It will work on all life forms similar to the monkeys, and some additional life forms that we add in. It shouldn't have much of an effect, if any, on the Tributes. If the Games are going slowly, we can increase the dosage for a bit of spice. If we increase the dosage, it'll have a small effect on the Tributes."

I nod. "Good. Now, how is it going on developing a better growth formula for the monkeys?"

He twists his hands. "Well, nothing we find works. We thought about just stopping dosage altogether, but they just up and die if they don't have some hormones. They aren't really grown enough. It's kind of hard to tell, but they actually aren't completely grown on the inside."

"So, how will it change our plans if we just scrap the monkeys altogether?"

He sighs. "Well, the reality is that we have a lot of mutts, and so it wouldn't do all that much. But... er, well, we've invested a lot of time in these monkeys, and... people don't really want to just give up. Scientists feel we're not to far from figuring it out."

I look at him in some disbelief. "Seriously? That's the reason?"

He glances away quickly at my tone. "Please, sir, don't make us scrap it. We're almost done, really."

I snort. I kind of want to scrap it just out of spite. But Gimbol looks at me, wide eyed, and I sigh.

"You know what? Fine. Keep working with your monkeys. But if it keeps you or anyone from finishing your other stuff, I'll make you get rid of them."

Gimbol doesn't suceed in hiding the relief from his face. "Thank you , sir."

I sigh again. "Whatever. Let's move on, I want to get back."

He nods and quickly leads me on. "Now, our mutts are divided in to a few tiers. The Tier One mutts are on this floor." He points at several different enclosures. "We have the monkeys, you've seen those. On the right we have our insects."

On the right, there are two glass cases. The first one is full of thousands of tiny insects, all species, all colors. Some are as big as my hands. Then I look in the second one.

"Eugh!"

Gimbol chuckles. "I didn't think you were the type to be afraid of bugs, Head Gamemaker."

"Shut up." I straighten my tie. The glass case is full of bugs, too. Except these are much, much larger. Some are as big as me. Hornets, beetles, ants. I can see them in all their huge detail. I'm not afraid of bugs, but when they're this big, they're just ugly.

"I wouldn't want to be the tribute who runs in to those."

Gimbol chuckles again. "Neither would I, sir. Now, come on."

I follow him through the rest of the Tier One level. Giant piranhas, snails, and an oozing greenish thing with nasty spikes that looks like a plant when it stops moving.

On Tier Two, there are wild cats and dogs, along with sharp-beaked birds and other nasty creatures. I turn to Gimbol.

"What divides them between the tiers?"

"Well, it depends on the amount we've had to change them or engineer them. Also, it depends on agression. As for agression... well, you'll see in a moment."

He leads me to an enclosure full of dark-spotted cats. They are making the most noise by far, and prowling around with long claws extended. Suspicious clumps of fur and blood litter the cage, and many of the cats are wounded. Unlike all of the other enclosures, there are no caretakers inside.

Gimbol clears his throat. "You see, all of our animals are kept tame until they are released in to the arena. This allows us to take care of them and give them their vitamins. These cats, however, just started being aggressive a few days ago. Two people were killed before we realized they were aggressive. There were about thirty of them in there before. Now, there are six. We want to try to figure them out, but we'll probably have to kill them soon. We've grown some new embryos that can be released."

I sigh and put my hand agains the glass, quickly jerking it back as one of the cats slams in to the glass, snarling. Gimbol says, "That's also how we help define the tiers. The ones that are going to be aggressive are on the higher levels, and the passive prey animals are on the lower ones. Our passive prey animals are things like rodents and lizards. Normal stuff."

We stand, staring at the snaling cats. Suddenly, a cat leaps on to the back of another and begins tearing at it. Gimbol swallows. "Let's go, shall we?"

I agree as other cats join in the fray. More blood and fur splatter on the floor. We turn back, the yowls of the dying cat ringing in our ears.