Now for another thrilling installment of...

The Ninety-Fourth Hunger Games!

District Ten:

"There you are..." Trent Flee smiles as he steps into the room, raising a hand in greeting to April, who growls at him.

"Go away." The girl sniffs, her voice flat and controlled, "I don't need you in here."

"They say... that if... a goat gets separated... from the herd... that goat is as good... as dead."

"Yeah?" April laughs harshly, "Well I don't need to worry 'bout no goats! I'm a lone wolf!"

"I heard you last night..." Trent smiles, taking a step towards the girl and laying a hand on her shoulder, "... do you always cry like that?" April's eyes widen and she spins around, pinning him to the wall.

"That's none of your business!" April growls.

"Fine..." Trent shrugs, seeming not to notice that April's hand is at his throat. "Sometimes it... helps... to talk about it..."

"Hmph." April tosses her head, turning away from Trent "You can't help me find my parents! So leave me alone!"

"OK, let's talk about family..." Trent mutters, "I have three siblings... They're a real pain... Two parents... Always making me work... Try to put me through school... Then make me work on some chick's farm... You think you got problems?... Wish I was an orphan sometimes... Less work..." He turns and walks away, leaving April wondering what on earth he was talking about.

TRENT FLEE:

"Good morning..." Trent Flee smiles as he steps into the room, mumbling into his hand, "Trent Flee... I am not the best speaker... but I'll try to take you through what I'm doing... in the name of fair play..." Simon groans, acts like this were usually horrible. Trent kneels on the floor, grabbing the coils of rope on the wall along with a selection of poisonous bugs from the nearby poisonous bug pens. He twists the ropes, coiling it into an intricate spiral while whispering something into his messy hair. He places the bugs on the ropes, watching as they crawl over each other and the ropes. Trent grins down at the bugs, licking his lips as he watches them. He spins the rope around them, flicking it in the way of escaping bugs as they crawl around. He then gets up, pulling the rope tightly and standing back.

"Now..." Trent whispers, pointing at the ropes. The Games Makers look down at the ropes, all the non-poisonous bugs have been trapped inside the very center of the maze of ropes and strings, whilst the more poisonous ones have been pushed outside the ropes.

"See..." Trent gives a worried smile, his mouth twitching slightly. He turns and leaves, eyes swiveling from one Games Maker to the next. He turns and leaves and Connor glares after him.

"I hate that boy." Connor groans, "He's not funny at all."

APRIL CONNOLLY:

April smiles to herself as she stands in the middle of the room, a spear in one hand and a bow in the other. This was what her parents must have felt like, standing here in the middle of the room, watching the Game Maker, Thebes Horrors. He's sweating like a pig and stares pleadingly at her, willing her not to do anything too stupid or over the top. She nods, breaking the top off of the arrow, causing Games Maker Pizzo (who had bought the spears from the personal collection of Zard Frezal) to wince. She then replaces it with the spearhead, causing the arrow to look rather bulbous and mutated. She smiles, fitting the arrow into the bow and firing it straight at the closest of the dummies. The spear head, being made for a rather larger instrument, broke off of the arrow almost at once. The spearhead was sent spiraling through the air, totally uncontrolled and horrifyingly deadly. The spike jams into the dummies shoulder, sticking out at an awkward angle before tumbling down, ripping the shoulder open and sending grain clattering to the ground.

"Impressive," Simon smiles, noting something down in his notebook.

Thebes winces, she's overdoing it. Now she'd be dead within the first night. Thebes knows, knows as he watches as her walk away. Getting a good score isn't always a good thing.

District Eleven:

"What on earth do you think your doing?" Lenox groans, the letter to home she has just written clutched in her hand as she stares at Scratch Standards. The older boy grins up at her, ropes clasped in his spindly hands.

"I have to finish!" Scratch shouts sounding slightly frazzled as he knits the ropes together, "Got to finish! Have to finish! Got to finish!" He grins at her, tossing his shaggy black hair as he turns to look at Lenox. She groans. "If I don't finish everything will be ruined! One less Worker!" Lenox gulps, and suddenly the knot is tied, Scratch grins widely and jumps to his feet, inspecting the scale model replica of a District Ten slaughter house which he has just finished.

"What was the point of that?" Lenox asks, bewildered.

"No idea." Scratch grins, "Sure took my mind off those trees though. Got me in the Hunger Game celebration spirit and all that!" Lenox rolls her eyes, this guy was starting to remind her of her big brother, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, he just sort of drifted along at the back, doing whatever was asked of him. He turns suddenly, rushing off down the hall.

"Come on, squirt!" He shouts, somehow managing to not make the sentence seem menacing, "We've got Private Sessions to get planning!"

SCRATCH STANDARDS:

Scratch grins widely, strutting into the room and winking at the nearest Games Maker, who scowls savagely back. He gives a merry laugh, flicking his hair again, a skill which he thought he did very well, and pulling a spear from the rack. He smiles, stretching back and hurling the spear, at close range, through the heart of a dummy, slamming it against the padding of the wall and leaving it hanging there, impaled. His grin widens further, pulling out another spear and charging the next dummy, running it through and pinning it down next to its brother. A third spear was drawn, twisting down through the air to crush the poor things head, before it shot into the padding as well, joining the other two before it, and the three more who came after. Scratch span on his toes, turning and stepping coolly out the room as the Games Makers cast their verdicts.

"That kid's got guts." Simon smiles.

"You bet he has!" The escort from District Eleven laments, "Winking at me after, just the other day, punching me in the face! The nerve!" Pizzo sniggers behind his hand, but is cut short when Felix, the escort of District Three, notices the look that Pizzo is getting from the other escorts, and promptly kicks him in a particularly painful area, knocking him off his chair.

LENOX CARTER:

Lenox Carter steps into the room, staring around the large room. Her face falls as she notices the decor. Weapons racks and dummies. No open spaces. Nothing to show off her skills at running.

'Looks like somebody didn't read the terms and conditions!'

Lenox groans. First there's that Essence girl, then the Scratch goes cuckoo and now this...

She looks around for something, anything that may redeem the fact that, currently, she is standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by Games Makers and weapons, with absolutely no idea what to do. Her plan ruined, Lenox smiles worriedly at the Games Makers and makes her way over to the weapons rack, pulling out an axe, a weapon that she had at least some competence in, and set to work on the dummies. Simon grimaces, watching as a doll is clumsily decapitated and the next one run through. A mediocre score is on her way, he thinks and that brings him at least some comfort. Lenox starts to work up a sweat, slashing at the doll with all the ability she can muster, before blinking. Surely a range of abilities can only help her. She grins, unsheathing a bow and firing off a couple of shots in roughly the right direction before lifting a heavy looking hammer and smashing in a dummies head.

Simon lifts an eyebrow, it's like watching a clip show. Lenox smiles, strength and ability is good, she thinks, but if you want a really good chance, you have to think on your feet!

District Twelve:

Hype Tarick smiles, marching down the hall as he flicks his long, greasy hair left and right, causing a slight swishing sound. He closes his eyes, humming quietly to himself as he slouches along. He reaches into his pocket, retrieving a jelly cube and swallowing it, chewing it noisily before gulping it down.

"Man, this is the life," he mumbles, lost inside his own, rather impressively roomy, head, "Chicks, totally awesome decor an' jello. An' good ol' Daddy-o ain't not nowhere in sight."

"Oh! Hype!" Arixo grimaces, turning the corner and almost knocking poor Hype down. She frowns, before putting on a rather forced smile and brushing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Oh. Yeah. H-hey Arixo." Hype stammers, staring around her for some help. God, that girl scared him.

"Look. I've been thinking..."

"That's like, real nice Arix', but I gotta go, err..." Arixo frowns at him and he shuts up.

"I really want to live through this, and I have this really good plan that means more than one of us can survive, but I'm gonna need your help."

"I'm not, like, gonna have t' pretend that I like... err... lo..."

"Oh, God no!" Arixo almost shrieks.

"Great!" Hype dashes past her, "Let me know how it turns out dude! Sounds wicked!"

Arixo rolls her eyes. This was never going to work.

HYPE TARICK:

Hype shuffles in, head swimming with words and thoughts. That crazy Arixo kid, always making him think about things and do stuff about stuff. Gah, she could be a real problem. He grins meekly at the Games Makers, pulling a mace from the shelf and spinning it expertly in his hands.

"Prepare to be, like, totally blown away!" He swings the mace, instantly remembering what he has been taught in career training and decapitating a row of dummies. He swishes his hair theatrically, imagining that he is playing to a crowd, before slamming the heads off of the next few rows. He then steps forwards, swinging his mace as he approaches the final dummy.

'Hey Hype, what up man?' Hype turns, the voices in his head knocking him off balance as well as any hit.

"Wait! What! Who's, like, jabberin'?"

'Thought you'd know Hype.'

"Murp? You're alive?"

'Nope. But hey, what ya gonna do?' Hype groans, tripping backwards as he backs away from the doll.

He fall, scrambling to his feet and whimpering piteously.

"I can't do this man!" He screams, shacking like a leaf The large teen turns, fleeing from the room as though he were being pursued by a million beasts. In the corner, Connor drops the voice changer microphone he has been holding.

"That little bit of psychological torture is worth all the research!" He grins.

ARIXO VARSITY:

Arixo grins, swaggering into the room full of Games Makers with a look of disdain on her face. She marches over to the weapons rack, and quickly draws the two sleekest looking blades that she can find. She taps off the ground, flinging herself towards the dolls with an exuberant fervor that only an experienced fighter could ever possess. She smiles, foot spiraling from the side to slam into the dolls back as her twin swords hack at its arms. She looks over at the Game Makers and is mildly annoyed to see that none of them are paying the slightest bit of attention. Some kid, probably a Games Makers son, is watching her with amusement, but that doesn't count. She growls, they are looking at District Twelves next great victor, and they can't even sit through twenty four tributes. She snarls at them, spitting on the floor. How dare they ignore her.

'First Fia Harris District Twelve's swan, then Haymitch Abernathy of the Second Quarter Quell, then Katnis and Peeta Malark the girl and boy on fire, then Roland Sharkly the Master Tactician and it looks like Arixo thinks she's next in this exclusive line.'

Arixo lands, watching as the doll breaks open, splintering on the ground and smashing its contents across the rough floor.

She sneers, strutting out, before turning to Simon, who looks like the head Games maker.

"Hype's collapsed outside." She rolls her eyes, "He's blocking the door from opening."

'Well Folks, that's the Private Sessions over and the Interviews tomorrow.

For those of you who don't know yet, we'll be being joined in the HGTV box, directly in between the President's booth and those lucky Twenty Eight Past Victors. So tune in tomorrow for Zard Frezal! Linkous Lenton! Sevdad Kerin! Ebony Raven! Kai Keol- Kae- Ke- Cola, Kai! Kyte Luch! Beetee! And Haymitch Abernathy!

HAPPY HUNGER GAMES!'

Credits, Fanfare and Fade to black.