This is a parody. If you don't like parodies, I'm sorry you were not blessed with an adequate sense of humor. If you do enjoy them, though, have fun reading this lame excuse of one. (Not a one-shot, meaning there is more of this horribly written story). Read and review at your own risk. I am in no way, shape, or form a comedian. I apologize in advance for the trauma this story may cause you.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. Shocker.

Warning: Swearing, lame humor, etc.

It was an average day in Panem.

President Snow was curled up in his office with a family-sized tub of fattening ice cream, watching reruns of Degrassi and wallowing in self-pity due to the fact that Katniss was ruining his life with her "mockingjay-ness".

Effie Trinket was getting an extremely unaffordable manicure while reassuring herself that she was completely sane. I mean, would an unstable person have freakishly fake white skin, unnatural fluffy pink hair, and nails as long as bootlace worms? (Sarcasm greatly intended.)

Gale Hawthorne was counting the squirrels he had shot so far. And brainstorming some "totally not illegal!" plans to win Katniss over so he could take her on a romantic date in the woods, where they would watch Peeta suffer an unfortunate grizzly bear mauling. But mostly just counting dead squirrels.

Primrose Everdeen was playing in traffic.

Haymitch was (you guessed it!) in a continuous cycle of drinking half-legal alcohol by the dozens, puking it all up, and then going back to the start.

Cinna was trying desperately to get a spot on "Project Runway". Apparently mentioning in the "past experience" section of the application that he lit the dress of a girl he hardly knew on fire and designed the clothes she was going to be brutally slaughtered in was "far from acceptable" and resulted in "registration elimination." Whatever.

Rory Hawthorne was…well, do we honestly care what Rory does?

Finnick Odair was at his weekly pole dancing lesson. Even though his instructor had only one eye and really freaked him out, he was getting more advanced with each session!

Johanna Mason was with her therapist. They were discussing her recent "not very appropriate, you obnoxious little bitch" acts, such as pushing little people down, threatening to drown the elderly, making hurtful comments toward the hearing-impaired, and walking around in public scenes with the absence of clothing.

Peeta Mellark was icing cakes with lovely floral and butterfly patterns and writing in his diary about his day's beautiful and positive experiences so far. Let us take a moment to collectively sigh for humanity.

And Katniss Everdeen was in her room, reading Twilight. Oh, the irony.

"Snow! President Snow! Snow! Snow! Snow! SnowSnowSnowSnowSnowSnow-"

"What do you WANT, Crane?! Can't you see I'm in the middle of a Gossip Girl marathon?! Blair is trying to protect Serena's reputation from the manipulatively evil Georgia Sparks! I just can't miss this!" President Snow roared as he kept his near-legally-blind eyes glued to the screen.

Seneca Crane craned (ha, see what I did there?) his neck to see the television. "Oooh! I saw this episode! Dan breaks up with Serena after she reveals her secret and Blair takes a plane to Europe after Chuck tells Nate about his feelings for her!" He said smiling, recalling the exact ending of the first season.

Snow grew infuriated, "YOU JUST RUINED THE SEASON FINALE, SENECA, YOU LITTLE FUCK!"

Seneca whimpered and scrunched up his face in some sort of expression that could possibly be read as "Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry!" or "I just made something really awful in my pants." Hopefully it was not the latter.

Snow threw the remote on the ground. "Dammit, Seneca! I just watched all eighteen episodes from the first season, and you just had to go and screw up the ending!"

Seneca was too busy playing with his totally fabulous beard to hear even half of Snow's rampage. Snow spoke up again.

"Well, now that you completely destroyed my hopes of finishing an entire season of a teen drama show without any spoilers, I guess I'll just have to rely on angsty fanfiction and fan-made videos to tame my Blake Lively cravings. What did you need?" He asked, jabbing a spoon into a fresh ice cream container. This one was cotton candy.

Seneca perked up, "Oh yeah! Well, you see, somebody I know wants to work with us."

Snow looked at him blankly, "Work with us how?" He was struggling to remove the spoon from the frozen dessert tub.

"You know, work with us." Seneca hinted, winking. Snow's face converted to completely flabbergasted.

"Are you implying that some strange man that I've never met before is going to come to my headquarters to try and engage in sexual intercourse with the both of us? Because, in the words of Elton John, uh-uh girlfriend!"

Seneca gave him a horrified stare for a few seconds before responding, "OH MY GOSH, NO, SNOW!" Then he started giggling, "hehe…that rhymed…"

Snow rolled his eyes. "What is this stranger you are speaking of going to do, then? And who exactly is it?" He walked across the room to retrieve something from his drawer.

Seneca smiled, "Well, you should know him. Because he's totally rad and has the face of an angel."

"You just described me, you shit," he mumbled, searching for the item.

Seneca Crane gave a toothy grin before exclaiming, "It's Justin Bieber!"

Snow found the object he was looking for (a bowling pin) while Seneca was in the middle of talking, but dropped it immediately. On his foot, too, but he was too thrilled to worry about his possibly-eternally-bleeding toe.

"OHMYGOSHJUSTINBIEBERAREYOUSERIOUSHE'SLIKESOHAWT!" Snow was wearing a smile so wide and terrifying it could paralyze children.

They jumped up and down together, interlocking hands and squealing, an action that no grown men should perform under any circumstances ever. Finally Seneca stopped jumping, claiming his hands and legs and pretty much every other body part imaginable ached.

"Yeah, he's gonna help us destroy Katniss-"

Snow squealed again as he picked up his fallen bowling pin, "YES! WE MUST DESTROY HER!" He pumped a bony fist in the air.

Seneca grinned sheepishly, "Well, actually, I was going to say 'help us destroy Katniss's reputation'…"

Snow dropped his arms and mouthed 'O'. "Well, I guess that's pretty cool too…"

Seneca Crane cocked his head, "By the way, Snowman," President Snow growled.

"The last time someone called me that they ended up with a metal spork through their rectum." He warned, stating the truth. Poor intern was just trying to be friendly.

Seneca sighed over-dramatically, "Fine. Why do you keep a bowling pin in your drawer?"

Snow thought this over, and shrugged, "Self-defense."

Seneca nodded understandingly.

Just then Effie came rushing through the door, her disgustingly high heels clacking loudly. Snow was alarmed, so he chucked the bowling pin at the door. It knocked off Effie's obviously fake yellow wig.

Effie screamed, "Good God, man! Are you trying to kill me?!" When she realized her wig had been thrown off, she embarrassedly swiped it up from the ground and adjusted it onto her wrinkled, powdered head. She blushed, but it was okay, because you couldn't see it behind the thirty pounds of makeup she was wearing.

Snow responded thoughtfully, "Quite possibly. You are annoying enough to murder."

Effie huffed, offended by the homicidal comment, but brushed it off, "Anyway, I have some news."

Snow began to beat his frozen ice cream with the bowling pin, "Would it happen to have something to do with a teen pop sensation that has successfully started an irritably trendy hair style?"

Effie, being the pityingly daft old woman she was, shook her head, "No, silly, it's about Justin Bieber!" She squealed his name out, even more high-pitched than Snow and Seneca had been.

Snow shook his head, exhaling, "Oh, Effie, what are we going to do with you…"

The old eccentric woman turned the corners of her excruciatingly vibrant lips up into a hopelessly confused, ever-oblivious smile, "I would suggest giving me a promotion!"

Seneca smiled, too, nodding in agreement. They were idiots.

Snow scoffed, "Rhetorical question. And if you suggest that one more time I will find a way to burn every wig you own." He glared daggers, and Effie yelped. She clutched onto her faux hair like a lifeline and fell on the ground into a sitting position, rocking back and forth and muttering things unintelligent to herself.

Seneca chirped up, "Well, I'm going to go give JB a ring!"

Snow was yet again horrified as he roared, "NO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT! I'M GETTING MARRIED TO HIM! NOT YOU! HE'S MINE!"

Before Seneca could try to explain that when he said "ring" he was referring to a phone call, Snow chucked his bowling pin at him.

Effie returned from her little episode at the sound of a skull being shattered. She screamed.

"Snow! You could be charged for manslaughter!" She shrieked worriedly as she threw her hands up in the air, glancing at the dying game-maker with the terrific beard.

Snow rolled his eyes and calmly picked up the bowling pin, then started to beat the ice cream bin again, "Eh, screw it. He wasn't that cool anyway."

Effie calmed down and nodded in agreement, "True, true…"

Snow growled because he still couldn't eat his delectable dessert. Finally, he just jammed his face into the container and bit hard down on the ice with his decaying teeth.

Effie averted her eyes disgustedly, "Would you like me to call Justin?" She asked, suddenly joyful at the sound of his name.

Snow nodded, unable to speak because his teeth were being ripped out of his gums.

Effie giddily nodded and ran out of the room, jumping down the hallway singing off-key to "U Smile".

And Snow was left alone with a dead man in his office, gums bleeding, trying desperately to yank his teeth out of the frozen cream, and getting on his laptop to look up nude pictures of Finnick Odair.

Katniss had just recently finished reading the third book in the Twilight series. Definitely team Edward, she thought to herself, nodding. She was walking down the stairs of her home, her stomach growling, when she heard a knock on the door.

She opened it hastily, because she really wanted to get something to eat, and was greeted by a half-naked Haymitch.

"OH MY GOD!" She screamed, freaking out. She immediately slapped her hands over her eyes, screening her vision from the horrible sight.

"BOOZE!" He cried out, laughing, and splashed Katniss with a bottle of rank alcohol.

"HAYMITCH!" She shrieked, extremely angry, and now drenched in his favorite liquid.

"BOOZE!" He repeated, and then fell over.

Katniss sighed, rubbed the stinging drink out of her eyes, and looked at Haymitch, shaking her head in complete and utter annoyance and distaste. She dragged her mentor inside, where she propped him in an uncomfortable wooden rocking chair.

She, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna, Annie, and a few other people in this depressing sci-fi trilogy who had nothing better to do held monthly "If-Haymitch-Ever-Passes-Out-Due-To-His-Abnormally -High-Tendancy-To-Drink" meetings, so she knew the drill. But she didn't bother to check his pulse, because quite frankly, she didn't at all care if he was living or not.

She went into the kitchen, and scrunched up her nose, because she could smell the burning alcohol Haymitch had so rudely drenched her in. It was beginning to dry into her skin, so she quickly made herself a sandwich out of squirrel meat and began to eat. She needed to get a shower, and fast. Her skin care depended on it.

Haymitch shouted from his spot on the rocking chair, and then stumbled into the kitchen where Katniss was halfway through her sandwich.

"Booze?" He asked confusedly, scratching his head. He was most definitely beyond drunk.

Katniss rolled her eyes, "Can you withstand being sober for fifteen minutes?"

Haymitch smirked sloppily, "Booze."

Katniss sighed, shaking her head. "Douche bag…"

"Booze!" Haymitch barked. He fell down again, but this time he hadn't passed out. He was just being, as one might call, a wasted dumbass.

He started laughing maniacally. Giggling like no middle-aged man should ever. He squirmed all around on the ground, chuckling, howling, teehee-ing. It was quite repulsive.

"HAYMITCH!" Katniss yelled, once again covering her eyes, "DON'T MOVE AROUND LIKE THAT WHEN YOU HARDLY HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON!"

Haymitch ignored her command and continued to "move around like that". It wasn't until Peeta came barreling through the door that he stopped for a moment.

"Katniss! Katniss, are you alright, my love? I heard shouting!" Peeta exclaimed frantically. He was grasping a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer in a position one might hold a gun.

"NO, PEETA! DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M ALRIGHT?! HAYMITCH IS DAMAGING THE OUTER LAYERS OF MY EYES!" Sobs racked Katniss's body as the middle-aged man continued his series of movements that made it look like he was molesting the floor.

Peeta caught a glance of Haymitch before he screamed and squirted the hand sanitizer at him spastically.

Katniss stopped crying enough to look at Peeta strangely. "What the fu-"

~ Excuse us while we drag Katniss out of the fanfiction for a moment and scold her for language that we aren't permitted to have here, due to the fact this is supposed to be somewhat kid-appropriate. We have exceeded our limit of swear words for the fiction, so let's pretend she was going to say "What the fulton bank". ~

"-lton bank," she finished, mentally cursing the author for making her end her swear with the name of a successful money-stocking business, "Why did you bring hand sanitizer?"

Peeta sighed, rolling his eyes and answered like it was obvious, "To protect us, duh!"

Katniss gave Peeta another weird expression, "How did you survive the Hunger Games…?"

Peeta grinned widely, "Because I'm fantabulous!" With that, he stuck his finger up his nose. Just then, the doorbell rang repeatedly, and Katniss sighed, grossed out by Peeta's 'gold-digging'. She threw open the door and was quite happy to see Prim on the other side.

Prim smiled, "Hiya, Katniss! Can we have a sleepover?"

Katniss's smile faltered a little, because she instantly recalled the last time she had a sleepover with Prim. They ended up in the back of a truck surrounded by lots of hay and strange men who kept trying to get them to snort something.

Don't ask.

"Uh, Prim, that sounds…well, you see-"

"Magnificent! I already handed out invitations, and it starts tonight, six o' clock, kay? Kay, cool!" Prim grinned, revealing a missing tooth, probably gone from frolicking around on the highway. She skipped inside, just in time to see Haymitch and Peeta doing a dance routine to 'Can't Be Tamed'.

"Okay, Hay-Hay, from the top. When the chorus comes on, throw your hands up and shake your saddle bags!" Peeta exclaimed excitedly, starting to do some eternally-scarring 'grooves'. Haymitch was slurring along to the lyrics and occasionally throwing in an unenthusiastic pair of jazz hands.

"What is wrong with you?" Katniss asked, eying at the blonde creep. She backed away from him slowly, entirely grossed out by his lack of dancing skills. Prim, on the other hand, was awe-struck by the mountain of patheticness in front of her, and giddily joined in.

Peeta turned off the music and smiled widely. He, oblivious to the fact that Katniss's question was rhetorical (much like the experience with Snow, Seneca, and Effie just a few paragraphs ago), answered thoughtfully, "Oh! Well, let's see. Indigestion, chronic ankle pains, nasophilia…"

Katniss covered Prim's ears quickly, "It was a rhetorical question, you shit-eating baker boy!"

Prim cocked her head, "What does nasophilia mean?"

"Way to go, brainless," Katniss glared at Peeta.

Peeta placed a hand on Prim's shoulder, to which Katniss swatted away immediately, "It means that I have a sexual attraction to noses," he stated dreamily.

Prim nodded understandingly, then curiously chirped up another question, "What does sexual mean?"

Peeta was about to respond, but Katniss cut him off by thumping him in the forehead harshly. He winced and screamed, clutching the spot he was 'so brutally wounded'.

"THAT WASN'T FRIENDLY, KITTY-KAT!" He whined.

Katniss rubbed her temples, clearly annoyed by her fellow protagonist.

"Peeta, just…just go jump off of something very, very tall, okay?" Katniss demanded exasperatedly, not knowing how to deal with the nuisance.

"Okay!" Peeta agreed happily, bounding out of the door. Prim waved good-bye, giggling like a school girl.

Katniss let her head hang back in relief, but of course, Peeta came running back in.

"Waitwaitwait! I want to make this all dramatical and stuff," he declared.

Katniss groaned, "Dramatical is not a word, you uneducated son of a-"

He ignored her, "Okay, so I'm gonna like, run out of the doorframe in slow motion. And you guys are like, gonna say goodbye to me all theatrically, like with tears and stuff. And then I'm gonna repeat some cool famous movie lines and then this dancing hippopotamus is gonna come in and hand out explosive tampons - I don't recommend using them after the expiration date by the way - and then the strippers arrive and I'm gonna be like-"

"Peeta! Just get your man-tits out of my goddamn house before I spray you with mace and knee you in your breadbasket!" Katniss screamed.

Haymitch, whom Katniss, Prim, and Peeta forgot was there, cleared his throat to get their attention.

I know I'm a bitch for ending it there, but I need not get ahead of myself. You will figure out what happens in the next chapter. That is, if you decide to stay for the next installment. If you don't, and this story bored you to death, then I apologize, and I wish you good luck with your life. Cheers.