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Two figures talked in the throne room. One was seated on the iron throne, his crown placed neatly on top of his his blond hair. His pouty lips were tight, though his eyes were curious. The other figure stood confidently next to the boy on the thrown. His pungent odor was making the boy gag a little, but for once, Joffrey didn't complain.

"An easy way to destroy my enemies, you say?" Joffrey asked, suspiciously.

"Not just that", answered the white haired man, "but a way to remind everyone who is the king, and that you can do anything you want, that YOU are the ruler of these kingdoms."

This last statement made Joffrey's blue eyes widen and his mouth turn into a twisted smile. "They do need to be reminded." His eyes narrowed. "How do you know it will work? In fact, who are you. You're clothes are different, and you didn't tell me where you are from.

"I am from a place you have never heard of, a time you will never live in. It would be impossible for me to explain. I rule a land, and this technique has always worked. I came to you because your situation reminds me of my own, and your enemies' of mine as well." Please read the letter I have given you, for it is too much to explain in words. I must go back to my home, now, but my grace, I wish you the best of luck." He started to walk out the door.

"Wait", cried the king, "what is the name of your strategy?"

The man turned around. "I call it the Hunger Games." And with that, President Snow walked out through the giant metal doors.