A/N: And here we go with another moment with an insane (And outrageously OOC) President Snow. The idea for this one's from Kira913. Hope you guys like it!

Note: I share none of Snow's interests, fashion choices etc.


President Snow walked through the crowded mall alone, which, come to think of it, was a bad idea in itself. Crazy things always happened to Snow when he was unsupervised. He was like a toddler, only insane.

Nevertheless, no-one noticed the horrible mistake, and Snow continued walking by himself. And you know what the first store he entered sold?

Toys.

Snow wasn't just like a toddler. He was a toddler. At least, in his mind he was.

"Oh. My. Gosh. They have Barbies!" Snow exclaimed, rushing towards the violent pink boxes encasing the dolls. Snow rushed up and grabbed the first box he saw, staring at the blonde Barbie wearing a dress that only just covered her plastic bottom, with a low-cut V-neck.

Snow smiled, taking the Barbie to the counter to buy it.

...Sometimes, I worry about that man.

The cashier beamed. "This for your granddaughter, Mr. President?" she asked.

"No," Snow grinned back at her, handing her the money. The cashier gave Snow a strange look as she handed him the doll in a plastic bag.

"Well, you have fun, then," she said warily.

"I will. Say, you wouldn't know where I could by a life size dress like the one Barbie's wearing, do you?" Snow asked.

"Uh, there's a dress shop a few meters down," The cashier answered slowly.

"Thank-you," Snow said, bowing and then sprinting out of the shop at a pace Road Runner would be jealous of. The cashier stared after him for a second, bewildered and creeped out, before turning to the next customer and smiling, thankful that this customer was a six-year-old girl.

President Snow however, was now arriving at the shop the cashier had directed him to, walking as if he still had some dignity left and he wasn't carrying a Barbie doll. As soon as Snow entered the room, the Sales Assistant was on him like a hawk.

"Hello, Mr. President. What can I do for you today?" she asked, her lipstick-y smile making her look kind of creepy.

"Hello," Snow said, imitating the tone of the woman. "I am looking for a dress like this one."

Snow held up the Barbie and pointed to its dress.

"Of course, right this way, President Snow."

The Sales Assistant dumped Snow on a plastic chair next to a homeless guy and a koala.

"Excuse me!" Snow called. "What's with the koala?"

"What's with your face?" The koala retorted.

"Shut up, Jonesy!" The homeless guy exclaimed. "That's the President!"

"Oh," Jonesy murmured. "My humblest apologies, sir."

"You're a talking koala," Snow pointed out.

"Well spotted, mate."

"You even have an Australian accent."

"Of course I have a bloody Australian accent. I am from Australia."

"So what are you doing here?" Snow asked.

"In a dress shop with my mate Paul here? We're just chillin'."

"Never say that in public again," the homeless guy, presumably Paul, said.

"What? I get to defy the laws of nature by being a talking koala, but I'm not allowed to say whatever I want? That's racism," Jonesy protested.

"It's not racism! I just-"

"-Freaking racists. Paul, the first step is admitting you have a problem," Jonesy interrupted.

There was a short pause before Paul spoke again. "Why do I even know you?"

Jonesy was about to protest when the Sales Assistant showed up again.

"Mr. President, if you could come right this way, please..."

"Oi! We've been here twice as long as this guy!" Jonesy called after her.

"Shut up, we don't serve talking koalas."

"What is it with this place and racists?" Jonesy muttered.

"What is it with you and being a talking koala?" Paul shot back.

"I was born this way."

"If you start singing Lady Gaga, I swear, I will throw you so hard into the ground you'll end up back in Australia."

Snow didn't catch the rest of Paul and Jonesy's conversation, as the Sales Assistant pushed him towards a rack of dresses.

"Sorry about those two," the lady apologized. "I've told them time and time again to go away."

"It's okay," Snow said. "It was actually nice to meet some people like me."

"Like... You? Sir?" she asked hesitantly.

Snow just smiled at her knowingly, then turned to the dresses.

"These dresses are amazing!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, yes. I even found one designed by Cinna himself! It's-"

"Burn it," Snow hissed, his tone becoming a deadly serious shard of ice.

"Excuse me? Sir?"

"Burn it," Snow repeated. It was actually rather scary how quickly his mood could change. He was either bipolar or a teenage girl.

"Oh, uh, of course. Right away, Mr. President," the lady stammered quickly. "Jenny!"

A girl who was obviously Jenny rushed in.

"What is it, Harriet?"

Snow snickered slightly at the name. Harriet. So old-fashioned.

"Burn this dress, would you?"

"B-but this is the one Cinna designed," Jenny protested.

"Yes. Burn it," Harriet insisted.

Jenny reluctantly left, carrying the dress with her.

"Sorry, President Snow. Now, would you like to try on any of these dresses?"

"Yes," Snow answered, holding up a ghastly hot pink scrap of fabric which would have hardly been classed as a T-shirt, much less a dress.

Harriet pushed Snow towards a changing room and hurried away to help some sane customers, yelling to Jenny that she was in charge of Snow from now on.

Snow, however, did not waste much time getting the dress on. When he had it on though... Simply put, he looked like a cheap hooker.

His now exposed legs were too hairy to describe, and you don't even want to know about the armpit hair.

Then there was the dress itself. It was just like the one that the Barbie was wearing, except it somehow managed to look more trashy on President Snow. How that was even possible, I have no idea.

Snow wore it proudly and stomped out of the changing room. Jenny was standing outside.

"Oh. Don't you look, uh, charming, President Snow," Jenny stammered.

"I know, right? This is so my color," Snow beamed at the image of himself in the mirror, and Jenny almost puked.

"Anyway, I'll just pay for this and wear it out of here, yeah?"

"Uh, sure," Jenny said hesitantly. "The till is right over here..."

Snow followed Jenny to the till, paid for the dress and started to walk out of the shop.

"Nice look, President," Jonesy the koala called out, snickering.

"Jonesy, do you want to be killed?" Paul the homeless guy warned.

"They can't kill me! It'd be racist!" Jonesy announced proudly.

"I wonder what It'd be like to live in your mind for ten minutes," Paul pondered, but President Snow didn't get to hear the answer to that question, because he was already out the door and walking to his car, scaring many young children along the way.


A/N: And there you have it. Don't ask where the characters of Jonesy and Paul came from. Just don't. Because I don't even know.

Sometimes, the sheer strangeness of my mind amazes me.

Anyway, that was fun to write. This story usually is. It's the most random thought processes in my mind typed and posted on the internet. Kinda like my Twitter...

So, review, and fuel my insane mind. And thanks again to Kira913, who reviewed with the idea for this chapter. Keep the ideas coming, and I'm working through them, I swear.