Since I couldn't think of anything else, I chose to do Gale's wife. She is my OC, and her name is Mary Sue. Coincidence much? XD

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**I do not own Friday by Rebecca Black. Nor do I own the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.

I run my fingers through my red tresses. Beautiful. I look into the mirror, and I see myself. I am absolutely gorgeous. I take out my cell phone and dial my boyfriend's number with my wonderfully manicured hands. "Hellooooo?" I say, drawing out my 'O's on purpose. I mean, don't you think it's absolutely fabulous that way?

"Sue, honey," says my boyfriend, Plutarch. "You'll be sleeping with me tonight?"

"Of course, sweetheart," I reply. "How could I not? I just can't wait, darling…" I hear the door creak open. "Oops, got to go. See you tonight, my love." He murmurs his reply, and hangs up. The door opens completely, revealing my red-faced forty year old husband.

"Mary Sue, how could you do this to me?" Gale shouts. "I-I… I can't believe you!" He slams the door.

"Gale, wait—!" I say, but it's too late. Oh, well.

Two hours later, the door opens again, this time revealing a woman with short brown hair and wide-set eyes. I know that woman; she's been over many times. "Well, well, well, Johanna Mason," I purr. "What brings you here on this very, very fine day?"

"Let's not play pretend, Mary Sue Ann Barbie Princess or whatever your name is," she growls. "I want you to answer all of my questions honestly, alright?" I remain emotionless. She sneers. "It's not like you have a choice, anyway. Okay. So you cheat on your husband, Gale. Real or not real?"

I gulp. "Not real."

"For that one lie, you get punishment. Radio, please," Johanna says. I see Gale's hairy arms drop a radio, my radio into Johanna's arms. She sets it down on the floor and plugs it to a socket in the wall. She fiddles with it a little, and music starts playing.

7 a.m. waking up in the morning
Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs
Gotta have my bowl gotta have cereal
Seein' everything the time is goin'

Tickin' on and on everybody's rushin'
Gotta get down to the bus stop
Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends

Kickin' in the front seat
Sittin' in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?

For some reason, I start laughing hysterically. Johanna looks at me strangely. Well, no matter how many times Johanna looks at me like that, this song will never be punishment. I. So. Freaking. Love. This. Song. Plutarch does, too. We dance to this song every single day. "Time for Plan B," I hear Johanna mutter.

When my laughter starts to die down, Johanna says in a loud voice, "Axe, please."