THE HUNGER GAMES: A PARODY OF THE HUNGER GAMES
By: Myself
Dedicated to: Katniss Everdeen
And Peeta
And Gale
And all those who died
And to you, my readers
And especially to my dead bunny
I miss you Cuddles!
This will only contain random things that will be weird
And it will not make sense
ENJOY!
Good evening, ladies and germs! Wow, that was a pretty mediocre introduction, and I once slipped on a banana peel while introducing myself to the president! In any case, after the long wait of at least 90 days, the infamous Chapter 25 hath arrived! Okay, it isn't really infamous at all, but it's here, so read it. Do it. NOW!
This chapter will deal with one of my biggest D'OH! moments from The Hunger Games: the anticlimactic climax. Or the climactic anticlimax. Yes. That is right. This chapter will finally end the Hunger Games! ... Or will it?
It is REALLY rambly, but that is not a bad thing. It's a really terrible thing. In any case, I hope that people who started reading this a long time ago when I started are still with me (internally, I am thinking YEAH RIGHT!)
So just read it already! Golly! (Somebody get me some donuts...)
Chapter 25: A Climactic Anti-Climax
I am very excited to recount this story because it is very exciting and will not be interrupted by—
EDITOR'S NOTE
Due to the violent and poorly-written nature of this chapter, young girls, young boys, small puppies, large giraffes, and people over the age of "old" are discouraged from reading this chapter. It is very graphic and violent. Or is it? I haven't read it yet. I was just excited to interrupt Katniss as she was—
END EDITOR'S NOTE
—those stupid Author's and Editor's Notes.
I notice that these mutations (URGH SPELLCHECK! Correction, mutations. I mean… oh, never mind. I'm gonna have to do this manually.), rather muttations are all very large, fat, obese, whichever you term you prefer. Do you, as reader, have preferences? Or should I count you as a non-identifiable non-person? I think I will, because that gives me the right to do so much more than I had the right to before! Did that last little bit make sense? No? You know what, I forget what I was even talking about.
Not only are they fat, obese, large, et cetera, but they are all wearing baseball caps and hockey jerseys. Oh no! I should have feared this. They're wearing Maple Leafs jerseys and caps! Although it's kind of strange that they're wearing a hockey team's baseball hat… wouldn't it be more appropriate to be wearing a baseball team's baseball cap? In any case, they are chasing after me. It sounds like a mob, as they are chanting and yelling something at me.
"RUN! RUN! AS FAST AS YOU CAN! YOU CAN'T CATCH ME I'M THE CATO AWESOME GUY WHO WILL WIN THE HUNGER GAMES MAN!" No, that's not the mutts; that's Cato, cocked and cocky as ever. Well, maybe I should give him a bit of my own medicine.
"RUN! RUN! AS SLOWLY AS YOU CAN! I AM NOT A VERY FAST RUNNER, WHICH IMPLIES THAT YOU HAVE A LARGER PERCENTAGE OF CHANCE OF CATCHING ME (ON FIRE), THE KATTY WATT MAN! I MEAN, WOMAN!" This just makes Cato more cocked and cockier, and he runs faster. Oh, did I forget to mention that we are running for our lives because, somehow, our uniforms turned into Boston Bruins uniforms? Oh, I did, how silly of me. I also forgot to mention the chant that they were chanting/singing depending on the reader/author's preference. Do you have a preference, even? Or am I just saying empty words? Are you even reading this? IS ANYBODY?! Anyway, they were chanting/singing:
"KILL KATNISS KILL PEETA KILL CATO KILL BRUINS KILL SALIVA KILL TREES KILL OXYGEN KILL CARBON DIOXIDE DILL PNEUMONOULTRAMICROSCOPICSILICOVOLCANOCONIOSIS KILL AUTHOR OH WAIT HE'S ALREADY DEAD KILL THE EDITOR BOB KILL KATNISS TOO BECAUSE WE DISLIKE HER KILL RUE KILL JOHN WAYNE KILL DANIEL-DAY LEWIS WAIT DON'T DO THAT ACTUALLY KILL PAUL DANO!"
And it continued for another hour or so. Actually, it didn't. Or did it? And why in the lanterns that are green and Ryan Reynolds am I using the past tense? Gutentag Katniss, you are losing your edge! You gotta getta the gym more often! That blubber… oh wait, I've just been starving for a long time so I am actually abnormally skinny. Than why must I go to the gym? I might not even survive the Games!
WHY IN THE BALONEY DO THEY CALL THESE GAMES AND WHY IN OREOS DO PEOPLE ACTUALLY WATCH KIDS KILL EACH OTHER HAVE PEOPLE REALLY LOST THEIR DECENCY OR THIS THIS JUST REALLY FAKE?
Sorry, I sneezed. Back to the narrative.
Cato and I are neck and neck at the head of the pack. If you consider us and Peeta a pack… but he is seriously pretty far behind us. In fact, I think he just got eaten by the mutts… oh, wait, nvm (txt ftw!), that was a blade of grass. Wow, that mutty muttation just ate that blade of grass whole! I am immense. IMMENSELY SCARED, that is. As I have previously mentioned, I am thin from not eating very much in the games.
EDITOR'S NOTE
Please disregard the chapter in which Katniss does the Irish jig and takes a lot of foodstuffs et cetera from the Cornucopia. Whether it is or is or is or is or is not true, I do not know which is witch is which, but that directly sort of in a roundabout not really well sort of contradicts Katniss's statement about being skinny. I don't whether or not she is skinny or fat or high or low on the BMI at this moment, as I was not there. Notice how I changed the tense of the verb to confuse you when I am supposed to be trying to clarify contradictory information? I am Bob, and I approve of this
(END) EDITOR'S NOTE.
We are still running, Cato and I, neck and neck. You know, that is a bit of an odd expression. "Neck and neck"? How are two necks related to our distance from each other? Oh, I get it, it's like our two necks are right beside each other, so we're really close to each other! Really close to each other? Ew, I don't want to be really close to Cato. So I decide to speed up to a jog to make sure that our necks are not very close together. Excellent! Now, Peeta…
Peeta, the little bugga (Not Peter, Peeta. Not bugger, bugga.), is really close to us now. He's just a bit behind Cato now, which is basically neck and neck. Oh, wait, now they're neck and neck. Wow, I SUDDENLY YOU'RE HERE! SUDDENLY IT STARTS! (suddenly) realize that we have been running for several paragraphs of filler, without stopping stride. Yup, and the mutts are still chasing us. But I was talking about Peeta. Suddenly (let's not sing this time), he realizes that he is neck and neck with Cato, and probably does not want to be neck and neck with Cato, because that is abhorrent. No, it's just disgusting I'd say. Well… it's a little of each, you know? I mean… There we go, idiot Katniss forgetting her train of thought again. Katniss seems to do this very often, it seems, as Katniss is not the most intelligent person on the earth.
Katniss, in addition, just began narrating in the third person. What about the first person au pluriel? (For those not well-versed en Français, au pluriel means plural. So the first person, plural. We. Chubby.) We are running very rapidly. We are wondering how our legs have not yet given out. We are REALLY CREEPY! We should start going back to the cliché, yet somehow effective because it allows the protagonist to share their thoughts, opinions, and emotions without making the narrator seem creepy. I mean, Victor Hugo? How did he know so much about Jean Valjean's thoughts and emotions? Yeah, that's right, chew on that, Violet Beauregard! I really hope you know who Violet Beauregard is, non-existent reader…
Hmm, as I am still running quite rapidly without breaking stride, I realize that I'm almost at 1,200 words for this chapter! Not bad, if I doon't say so myself! Well, actually, I do. In any case, that means that I am about a quarter of the way to my goal of making this the longest, funniest, ground-breakingest tootin' chapter of this whole excruciatingly idiotic narrative! An edge of applause, please? (Get it? It's not a round of applause, it's an EDGE of applause! Oh, I am too much.)
EDITOR'S NOTE
Sorry for the interruption, but I agree:
KATNISS IS TOO MUCH.
END EDITOR'S NOTE
Say, now I'm at 1,273, so that means that I am almost at 1,300 words for this chapter! Wow, that is impressive. Say, let's just make the rest of this chapter ME COUNTING HOW MANY WORDS THERE ARE! And I think that numbers count as words too, for some strange reason…
1,320
1,321
1,322
1,323
1,324
1,325
1,326
1,327
Oh darn, I lost count. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to go…
BACK TO THE NARRATIVE! Say, that would make a great chapter title!
Peeta pulls ahead of Cato, and finally, after endless nothingness contained in many paragraphs, we arrive at the clearing whence (NOT TEXT LANGUAGE FOR THE WIN! I don't know why I just did that…) the Games began. In the middle, silent and still, golden and horny, I mean, cornucopiay, is the Golden Cornucopia, an artifact almost as stupid as the Golden Fleece. Although, the FX (txt ftw!) in Jason and the Argonauts were pretty ground breaking at the time. No, no, they didn't actually break the ground! Honestly… I just mean that they were quite advanced for the times.
Quite strangely, and very helpfully, there is a ladder leading to the top of the Conrucopia. Oh, good, I was wondering why we were running toward it. At the beginning of the Games, there wasn't a ladder leading to the top of the Cornucopia, so this is actually quite useful. We'll be able to climb to the top and stay safe from the mutts until Cato tries to kill us! Because there is still that rule about two Victors, from the same District, remember? No, you don't? That's right, you zoned out about 20 chapters ago.
1,549!
The mutts are neck and neck with Cato who, realizing he does not want to be food for mutations URGH STOP SPELLCHECKING IT TO MUTATIONS! HONESTLY! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU MICRODOFT WORD! I AM GOING TO RANT FOR THE LAST FEW THOUSAND WORDS ABOUT—
Oh, I'll just add "muttation" to the dictionary. Muttation, muttation, muttations. Well, another word's nothing more I guess, when you've added one made up word to the dictionary.
Realizing that I wrote the word "realizing" about a month ago, I have forgotten what I was going to say, so now I must reread the past few paragraphs to see where the plot is. It'll take a while, seeing as I have to wade through all these throwaway paragraphs. I mean really, take away about 90% of all this, and you've got a story. The most of this is throwaway.
See, you can even throw that paragraph about 90% of the story and you've got an even better story! See, all this blah-blah (what does that mean?) is just to make it longer and more entertaining. Like in various movies such as… such as… hmm, I'm having trouble coming up with a mediocre movie that is all filler. OK, fine, pretty much every movie in existence.
Throw away that paragraph, and the story still remains; less entertaining, but leaner and better.
And that one too.
And that one too.
I could go at this for hours and make a fun little rap song out of it, I really could… but I don't.
And that one.
Where were we?
Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the running of the mutts, plus three Tributes who will likely die SO now people will actually enjoy this ritual because people are dying. Mutts running, meh; but kill people, and you've got heads turned.
They're running neck and neck except for Peeta, who has once again fallen quite far behind. No, I know what you're thinking, not behind the mutts, behind me (that's right, I'm announcing my own race) and Cato, who doesn't care. Maybe it's because he eats too much Peeta bread… I mean pita, not Peeta bread. That would be cannibalism and no one wants to see that. Or read it. Maybe read it…
And then, all of a sudden, I narrate using the suspenseful term "and then, all of a sudden." You know, I really like that last sentence. And I really like the fact that I used the sentence "You know, I really like that last sentence.
Okay, really this story is going no where. I mean, nowhere. Pardon my grammar.
See? I keep going off on inexplicably idiotic topics nobody cares about. All this because I promised my (the word my was word 2000) readers a longer chapter. I mean come on, really, why? Peter Jackson promised – or at least did without promising – to made the Hobbit movies into a trilogy. It was the trilogy that everybody asked for, nobody deserved, and Peter Jackson couldn't make. I bet Christopher Nolan could do a better job than Jackson Wackson diddly do!
I'm sorry Peter Jackson. I recant of that last comment and will refrain from dissing you. I mean, you did make the Lord of the Rings, and King Kong which was pretty good if not stretched out like this chapter, but what else have you done? Heavenly Creatures? NOBODY'S EVEN SEEN THAT!
"I have!" says Peeta, huffing and puffing all the while. Ew, yet another reason I shouldn't have cleaned his wound in the first place.
Anyhoo, I should get back to stuff.
Finally, if I haven't mentioned it already, the Cornucopia pops up in my field of view. Luckily there's a ladder leading to the top that says "Climb me". Boy, if that wasn't there then I'd be mutt food…
…
…
It always takes so much time to think of something truly witty to say…
Okay, never mind, lost it.
So I'm climbing up the Cornucopia now. Peeta actually advances past Cato and jumps on the ladder as well. Insert descriptive action words to describe this BOOM DUM DOOM. AND ALL THAT JAZZ! Well… that only works really if you've heard that song. What? You haven't? Sheesh, I live in a futuristic dystopian society where children die all the time, and I've heard it. Honestly, get a life!
EDITOR'S NOTE
Katniss did not just insult. But, if she ever does, she will be boiled in a hot steaming kettle of beezlenut oil. Yes, I just plagiarized Seussical the Musical. Take that, Theodore Geisel!
Because, you know, Doctor Seuss's real name was actually Theodore Seuss Geisel. It's an interesting tidbit of fact that I just shared with you.
END EDITOR'S NOTE
REAL AUTHOR'S NOTE
I am really just grasping at straws here. Congratualtions to you if you are still reading, because this is probably really boring. Oh, and whoops, I misspelled congratulations. I'm too lazy to fix it.
END REAL AUTHOR'S NOTE
HONESTLY EDITOR AND AUTHOR, WHY DO YOU KEEP INTERRUPTING ME IN SUSPENSEFUL SITUATIONS!
In any case, Peeta is ahead of Cato. Must be because of all the Peeta bread he eats… I mean, uh, pita bread. Don't want to show Peeta's true nature—I mean, his hobby.
I AM JUST KIDDING, Peeta does not eat humans for fun. Oh boy, I'm just digging myself a deeper hole. Holes. By Louis Sachar. Good book. Never read it. Because I dug a hole and THREW it in it. The book that is. In the hole. Look sentence fragments. Cool beans. Beans are not cool.
Peeta rushes up the ladder, poking me in the back.
"Here comes the tickle train, tickle tickley too!" Petta begins to tickle me viciously, halting. I can see Cato approaching very nearby.
"Shut your pie hole, Peeta. Or cake hole. Or maybe even Pita hole. Do Peeta's have holes?" I must sound really confused.
"Oh yes Katty Watty, one or two…" Suddenly Peeta fells Cato clutching at his feet. He screams like a little girl and climbs over me, like those zombies in World War Z. Innocent whistling, I've never seen that movie! No, I actually haven't. Seriously. And don't want to. Ever. But, I might die in the Hunger Games, so it doesn't even matter.
Cato is scratching my calf and… ooh, that feels very nice. Like when a cat scratches you on the leg… OW! THAT HURTS! I bash his skull in and climb to the top of the Cornucopia.
Just kidding. I start to whimper and cry and cower in the corner, even though there is no corner.
Cato grabs Peeta from behind in a headlock. "Ow," Peeta says like a small, infantile girl. "Would you please let go of me so that Katniss and I can win the Hunger Games? Thank you, have a good day, come again, wait don't, I don't like you, please do not come again because it you were to come again you would—"
Peeta is – thankfully – cut off abruptly by something that I just forgot. That's right. Do you get it?
Oh! I just thought up a poem I thought was pretty cool:
Qui suis-je?
Je ne sais pas.
Qui suis-je?
Je veux du chocolat.
Qui suis-je ?
J'aimerais en connaitre.
Qui suis-je ?
Je suis un maitre.
It is in French, so… well, never mind. I just thought that since I put in, you know, so much effort, that I would share it with the world. But the world has rejected me. He will be an outcast, they will kill him!
He'll be a god to them!
WOAHAHAHAHAHAHHFDFHJKLEHUKFHUKJHFNKJFHN I JUST SMASHED MY KEYBOARD BECAUSE I WAS SO EXCITED ABOUT FINALLY, UM…
And there goes my train of thought. Oh wow, it looks like Peeta's eyes are bulging. Oh my, he's strangling Peeta! What do I do what do I do what do I do what do I do what do I do what do I… hey, this is just to increases the word count, don't judge me.
Oh, nope, Cato isn't strangling Peeta, Peeta is doing a Mr. Bean impression and licking Cato's arm. Ewww, I'm glad I'm not Cato. Or Peeta, seeing as Cato is about to throw Peeta to the mutts. OH MY!
"Say goodbye to your little friend…" says Cato menacingly.
"Oh, you've seen Scarface? I was going to once, but I didn't because I only wanted to watch something that was, like, an hour and a half or something, so I watched Rushmore, which I really liked, although not as much as The Royal Tenenbaums. But, I did once try to watch Heat, the same director as Scarface, if I'm right, but I was kind of bored and doing something else at the same time, and I mixed up De Niro and Pacino, so I couldn't tell which was which. Oh, I just thought of something, De Niro and De Palma! Isn't that so cool?" I say in one breath. Just kidding, I don't have that large a lung capacity.
During the previous monologue, I also strung my bow and pointed it at Cato, and his eyes kind of glazed over while I was talking because I am probably the most boring person ever.
Cato rises from his stupor all of a sudden.
"I don't understand the question and I won't respond to—oh." He notices that I am pointing a strung arrow at his head. Isn't that a sight, hey? Is it? Isn't it? Is it? Isn't it? Is it? Isn't it? Is it? Isn't it? Is it? Isn't it? Okay, fine, going for the word count here.
Cato's face shows despair. It looks like he's about to break into dramatic monologue. Peeta wakes up all of a sudden, as he fell asleep while I was rambling.
"All I wanted to do was win the Hunger—"
"Say, do you want me to go over here while you deliver your climactic monologue?" Peeta asks, in perhaps his first and most sincere act of kindness. Cato nods through tears. Peeta nods, brushes his shoulder, and moves over beside me. Cato starts wailing. In the background I can hear birds freaking out, flying away, flying into a large dome that covers the arena, and frying up, landing on a plate… Baby, we've got a stew!
"It's OKATO! OH OH! Get it? I mean, ahem: it's okay Cato, take your time, let those tears out." I am just so witty.
Cato takes a moment, and cries. And cries. Wow, he's still crying. I glance at my watch anxiously. "When I said take your time, I didn't say take ages. I know, it's nice that you're adding some word count for me – and I am thankful – but really, I thought you were a man. Or rather a teenager. You're acting like a little girl!"
Cato nods, holds up a finger to let me know he's almost done, and proceeds to cry for another ten minutes straight. Finally, Peeta steps forward, gives Cato a swift smack, and goes back beside me. I hit him over the head with a frying pan just for fun as Cato stops crying.
"All I wanted to do was win the Hunger Games. I volunteered even!" he begins, but I shake my head conspicuously, as his name was pulled from the bowl. No one volunteered for him because his District hates him and they wanted him dead. But, he's going to die, so what does it matter what he remembers anyway? Anyway, sorry for interrupting his monologue. I mean, it might be a pretty good monologue, but… Okay, I'll stop.
Cato waits patiently for me to finish and continues:
"I just wanted to make my District proud, show my love for Panem, and win a lot of money and stuff so that I would be well off for the rest of my life, unlike you suckers in District 12 who suck like suckety suck suck suck! But now, I am going to die."
An awkward beat.
"That's all I got. Now get back in here Peeta."
"Oh, I will get in there immediately!" Peeta says. He must have taken wording-classes with analrapist Tobias Funke. Peeta does so, and the standoff continues.
I won't bore you with the details, because really, how long do I ever spend on plot? So here's what happens next in summary form:
I want to shoot Cato but doing so would kill Peeta. A good option, but not practical. Peeta motions to Cato's hand. I shoot the arrow, but miss and hit Peeta's leg, and then I shoot again and Cato falls off into the mutts and Peeta is still alive. I eventually shoot Cato because the mutts are ripping him apart disgustingly and it's only humane. Peeta and I survive and the Games are over! The mutts go back underground.
Now here's the kicker! Peeta and I are supposed to win, right?
"Tributes. There has been a slight change of rules. Oh come on, who am I kidding, this is like a complete bait and switch. SO um basically, there will only be one winner. So much for that climax, huh?"
So there it is. Wasn't that a pretty anticlimactic event? You got that right!
I have no idea when the next installment will arrive, but hopefully soon. Last school year I got some of this done during my business class, and now I have an opportunity to do some work on this during my civics/careers class. I mean really, this is honestly the most boring class you will ever take in your life, other than business. They're pretty close competitors.
Remember: READ MUCH REVIEW OFTEN SO THAT YOU CAN REVIEW OFTEN READ MUCH JELLO!
(And hey - 4221 words!)