Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. I do, however, own thirty-five pairs of socks, my training dummy, and a basket full of Webkinz.

"Wake up! Wake up! Today is a big, big, big, big…." Leffie continued saying big until Mary and Stewart super-speed changed into their amazingly sexy training outfits and stared up at her adoringly. "…day!"

Mary was gazing into Stewart's enchanting ebony colored eyes and being distracted by his hot new hairstyle that defied the laws of physics while listening to Leffie's incredibly long and boring speech about why they needed to be chipper today. "…but enough about fashionable eyebrow thickness. It's time for breakfast!" Leffie finished.

Mary, Stewart, Glinda, Bertram, Leffie, and Jayfinch (who had been magically cured: if only Mary's dear deceased ((abusive)) father had the benefit of Capitol medicine, he could still be alive…) sat at the table eating their perfectly perfect breakfast with impeccable table manners (except for Jayfinch) and talking strategy. Jayfinch made the mistake of asking Mary what her skills were. "Well, I play the slide whistle, I have perfect accuracy with the bow, I can fletch arrows, I can take down a buffalo using only a pocketknife, I'm amazingly skilled with swords, katanas, knives, daggers, staffs, clubs, maces, lances, guns, slings, slingshots, axes, and katars. I can survive in the desert with nothing but a T-shirt, survive in the tundra with nothing but a bottle cap while wearing a bikini, Stewart, Bertram, and Glinda amplify my skills and abilities..."

Jayfinch interrupted Mary's incredibly long list of skills. "Why don't you just tell us what you can't do?"

Mary was greatly troubled over the thought that she, the perfect semi-immortal Sue, could possibly be anything less than perfect at something. "Um…..I've never been able to make a proper macrame pot holder." she humbly admitted.

"Stewart, you're probably just as obnoxious and wishy-washy as Little Miss Perfect here, so what can't YOU do?"

Stewart forgave the lesser being for speaking poorly of his beloved. The poor thing was probably still drunk. "I - I can't whistle. With my mouth. I can make leaf whistles and stuff, but I've never been able to whistle normally."

Jayfinch facepalmed at Stewart and Mary's "weaknesses". "Just, work on whatever the hell 'macrame' is, and learn to whistle. Normally I'd say you should do some survival training, but judging by Mary's little speech you don't NEED any skills. Nope. Pot holders and whistling. Keys to survival in the 'Games." he ranted.

If Jayfinch had looked into Stewart's eyes while he was besmirching the good name of Mary, he would have gotten a maddening craving for steamed sea lampreys. Stewart was filled to the brim with righteous rage and Mary sensed his anger at Jayfinch's blasphemy. 'It's OK my beloved,' Mary telepathically said to Stewart, 'the lesser beings aren't aware of the almightyness that is Sue. If you imagined him bursting into flames, he would burn. But we need him alive so that we can be sent all sorts of wondrous gifts while we are in the arena.' Mary's silent speech made Stewart instantly calm down enough for Jayfinch not to be harmed.

AN: This next paragraph should be read only in a proper British accent. If you cannot read it in a good enough accent, have a friend read it to you. Wow, an obnoxious author's note in the middle of a chapter. We're really getting into this crappy SYOT thingy that isn't really an SYOT.

And so, Mary and Stewart trained in noble arts of macrame and whistling. gaining years of experience and wisdom in the time it takes to microwave a burrito. And thus, with their training completed, they had a cliché make out session on the roof. Whence the time for their individual sessions came, they flew about the room in a blur that would have even impressed Bart Allen, masterfully showing off all of the stations in the room (including macrame and whistling) along with a few things that shouldn't even be humanly possible. All of this culminated in the most daunting challenge yet… the interviews. Duh.

The lights blared as Mary and Stewart took their places in the audience. Mary's hair was the exact color of Caesar Flickerman's makeup, which was a lovely shade of burgundy. She was wearing her platinum lipstick on her newly formed lips, and her skin randomly changed to fuchsia. Just 'cause. Her eyes were the exact color of summertime, because that totally makes sense. Stewart's hair was a firey yellow. He was wearing the proper amount of ey- sorry, guyliner, and his skin was also fuchsia, so that he would match his lovely Mary. His eyes were the color of autumn leaves, and shifted from red to yellow to brown. They were both wearing clothes that Mary had magically enchanted so that they would look like a different beautiful outfit to every person who saw them. For example, to unnamed example monkey #1, Mary was wearing a shimmery silver sleeveless dress and Stewart was wearing a cream tuxedo with cufflinks. Yeah, cufflinks. Mary heard, saw, and memorized every freaking detail of all of the interviews, but so that you don't die of boredom here's a few select moments from each interview:

"...and then I was all like, 'If I get reaped, I'll like, totally be like super-duper happy!"

"Could this kid be any more boring?"

"Isn't giggling like the giggliest happiest show of happiness?"

"I never knew someone had a bigger one than me!"

"Um, rolling your tongue isn't the sexiest thing you could've done just then."

"Hey! You bruised my banana!"

"My favorite color doesn't matter. WTF would you ask me that?"

"What? No WAY is my gun an unfair advantage!"

"If I had a nickel for every time someone poked me there..."

"But my children need me!"

"...what did that have to do with goats?"

After the District 11 boy went, Mary stepped up to the stage in her amazing amazingness. The entire first row of the Capitol audience immediately burst into flames from too much exposure to Mary's perfectness. Caesar, however, chose to ignore this. "So, Mary, can you tell us your life story while you twirl in your awesome outfit for us?"

Mary began to twirl. "Well, I grew up in District 12, the twelve-iest District of them all, with my dearly deceased mother and father. My deceased mother taught me to somewhat illegally hunt in the fields by District 11, where I slew the waves upon waves of deer which were stuntning the growth of the farmer's harvests. President Frivolius Maxima Poison-Viper personally thanked me for saving the entire country's food source and gave me my darling Fuffikins, who was unfortunately killed by my dearest deceased alcoholic and abusive father..."

While Mary was doing this (in exactly three minutes) the entire audience was riveted on her. When she was done, there was a round of voluptuous applause that instantly turned to silence as Stewart set foot on stage. "Stewart, do you have anything to say to Mary?" Caesar's voice quavered; he was crying from Mary's pronounced declaration of her love and for the indignities she suffered for her eleven years (Oh yeah, she's not even twelve anymore).

"Yes." Stewart shouted as he lept up out of his seat and knelt down in front of Mary. "Mary, Will you marry me so we may fill the earth with our angelic progeny?" the croud gasped, waiting for Mary's reaction. Right before Mary could cry out that yes, she loved her dress too, the timer stopped, and the interviews were over. Directly afterwards, however, she and Stewart declared their undying love to each other and Mary was given a 9001 carat diamond ring (Bertram) while Glinda transformed into a metallic platinum band that shone with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns and fit herself around Stewart's utterly unblemished ring finger.

Author's Note: Finally got this over with after, like, six months. No one reads these author's notes anyways, so I'll just stop here.