"...Primrose Everbitch," called Effoff Trinket. There was a gasp of horror from the crowd who, I was quite frankly surprised to hear care. You'd think by now, since it's been around the whole of their goddam lives, and therefore completely second-nature, they'd have stopped huffing and puffing at everything like their trying to blow someone's house down...THE CAPITOL'S THAT IS!
Naturally, I was licking barbecue sauce off my fingers and not giving a caca, when I heard Effoff ask where exactly Primrose was. My blood ran cold.
"Oh, please, no, TAKE ME INSTEAD!" I cried out. Keeping Prim's gnawed leg-bone at a low-profile. "PLEASE...NOT HER...ANYONE BUT HER...IN FACT, FUCK EVERYONE...ME!...ME!...IT'S ALL ABOUT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I crowd-surfed to the front, hiding my tears (that I'd cried from laughing.) It was only when I got to the front that I thought,
"Oh, bugger, I'm gonna be in the games."
Heybitch started dancing around like Elvis, before tripping up and rolling around on the floor, with his tongue hanging down to his knees. The paparazzi went mad. Yes, there are paparazzi in the future. No child support, but lotsa paparazzi. Effoff helped Heybitch up.
"And now the..." And Heybitch fell right on top of her. The microphone fell with them, so the whole audience heard her bones breaking. There was a dead silence. Dead as Effoff Trinket who was dead. She died...(hmm, I need to make it clear to the reader when somebody has actually died...Ooh, I know! A CANON! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG! Harhar, where do I get my ideas? Oh yes, from every single book that was ever written...)
Since, Effoff was dead, (R.I.P EFFOFF TRINKET, WHO IS DEAD, AND WAS KILLED BY HEYBITCH), Heybitch announced the opposite sex'tribute.'
"...Pee Tamellark!" No, not him. Anyone but him. We have a backstory. It's really sweet, like, one time he gave me bread even though his Mom was totally gonna hit him with a frying pan, like. But he still, like, gave it to me, like. Isn't that cute, he's so cute, like. And think I like, like him, but I kind of don't, like. Cause, like, I don't really know, like, but I kind of like Gay, like. And like he's sweet, like, but would I go there like? I don't know like...It's a real love-triangle, like. And a lot of people, like, say they're like totally the same, and I'm like STFU! There are like so many distinctions. Pee makes bread and Gay makes...beds...
Next it was time to sit in a room, and say goodbye to people. On account of me eating her, I doubted Prim would come. Selfish cow. Then we would go to the capitol. And make preparation...for the Drinking games.