A/N: This was an original scene from when I was writing The 70th Games as a parody making fun of traditional fanfiction. The spelling and grammatical errors are intentional and intended to be comical. Thanks for reading!

WHEN I'M CALLED FOR evaluation, the gamemakers are just starting into a large bowl of fruit salad. I look around the room for a moment, then start pushing the metal shelves against each other and stacking boxes around the room. When I'm finished, I go to the weapon's rack and tuck six knives into my belt. Finally, I stand in the middle of the room and face the gamemakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" I shout.

The gamemakers quiet and about five or six turn to look at me, some curious, some annoyed.

"Thank you for your consideration today." I bow and turn to face the shelving in the center of the room. Running towards the metal shelves, I vault up onto the stack and from there proceed to hop from a stack of boxes to the climbing wall, throwing knives at the targets around the room and scoring hits most of the time. Then I climb up the wall and perch on the top.

The ground is lava...

I smile at the remembrance of the game Jael taught me as a way of learning parkour. Touch the ground and you get burnt.

Taking a deep breth, I launch myself off of the wall and towards the dining table ten feet away. I land on the edge and roll fowards into a run, where I spring onto a stack of boxes, throwing my last two knives and scoring almost direct hits. Then I glance back at the gamemakers. One or two are casually glancing in my direction, most of them are chatting, eating or drinking.

I feel my iyer rise. The least they could do is pay attention.

Reaching up, I grab one of the metal support beams on the ceiling and swing myself up onto the network of crossbeams and poles. Stepping carefully, I work my way towards the hole in the wall where the gamemakers are so vexingly ignoring me. Grabbing ahold of a pole I swing myself down through the hole an land on the plush carpet. Silence falls over the room as I sashay towards the table and drop into a seat, draping my arm around the shoulders of an open-mouthed man with spiked, scarlett-and yeow-hair. Crossing my legs, I pluck a grape from a tray and pop it into my moth, turning to casually look around the room.

"Thought I'd join you guys up here. Seemed much more exciting."

A woman with fushia face tattoos puts a hand to her chest as her eyes roll back amd she hits the floor with a muffled tud.

I faint surprise and turn to the man who my arm is around. "Oh dear, must be food-poisoning," I say seductivly.

The head gamemaker, Tacitus Gracchus, is the first recover his wits. He clears his throat and gives me a wave of his orange-clawed hand.

"You are dismissed. I pressume you can depart in the same manner you arrived."

I stand and nod, grabbing his shoulders and placing a big kiss on the mouth before swinging back down to the training room and walking out like I own the place. Heading down the hall, I tap the button to summon the elevator and wait. Once the mechanical doors close behind me, I slide to the floor and smile in relief. To be honest I didn't know I had that in me.

Okay, Akira, pull yourself together. You are this new purson at all times: Sleke, senssual, confident. This is the new yu.

Back in the tribute's quarters, I find Liame and Licini chatting over a tray of frut. I cross my ams and shift my weight to my left hip.

"Where's Padraco?"

Licinid frowns at my lack of decorum and Liam sets down his dink.

"How'd it go?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Fine."

He crosses his yams. "Specifics please."

I sigh. "I threw knivs while performing parkeur-hit four out of six targets dead-center. They weren't paying attention so I climmed onto the support beams and joined their little party. Oh, and I kissed Tacitus Gracchus. They didn't seem mad. One woman passed ot."

Without bothering to note his reaction, I turn and saunter off to my room, where I strip to my undies and order a gigatic bowl of mint-choclitt chip ice cream. After the it arrives, I sit on the bed and flip through channels on the windowe screem, looking for a non-porno feature. I pause on one channel to watch a particularly sultry actris talk to someone who is either a love interest, an enema, or both. A one point, I can't tell if they're going to french, or try to kill each other. I settle back and undo my hare, deciding that I need to imitate this woman. She exudes sensulity, with hints of danger in her demure, allusive eyes.

Liam knocks on the door an hour and another bowl of ice cream later, telling me that it's almost time for the scoring anouncement. I pull on a long, leather t-shirt and grab my bowl, enjoying the feel of the air on my long legs.

Licinia's eyebrows raise when she see's me.

"Young lady!" she exclaimes. "Ice cream? You aren't going to fit intu your dress for tomorrow evening if you don't stop indulging that beastly appetite of yours!"

I traypse past her and deposit myself on the sofa, sitting crossleged and holding my bowl in one hand. Liame comes in and peers into my mostly-full bowl.

"Cookies and creme?"

I nod. "Want some?"

He grabs a spun and plops down beside me as Padraic appears with his mentor. The Capitol seal appears on the broadcast screem and fades away to reveal Claudinus Templiesmath seated behind a desk. After a few pleasantries, he begins reading off the scores. The Careers get preditably high scores, ranging from 8 to 10, with District 3 getting predictably low scores. I lean foward as Claudius begins to read the scores for District 5.

"From District 5: Padraic Kopp, with a score of 7."

Licinia, and Padraic's mentor and stylist congradulate him while I glance sideways at him.

How did that spoiled brat manage a 7?

Claudius continues.

"Akira Burke, with a score of 8."

I feel a smill curve across my lips and Liome gives me a satisfied nod. Eight. I placed higher than Padraico.

"Very good," Julinia burrs from behind me, putting her hands on my shoulders.

We watch the rest of the scores and most of the tributes getting a four or five-lower than me. The boy and girl tribute from Twelve get a four and three respectively.

The television clicks off and the stylists declares that they got to go put the finishing tuches on our costooms. Padric heads to his room and his mentor to his. Liam and I finish the bowl of ice cream.

"So," he says, turning towards me, "you actually kissed Tacitus Gracchus?"

I shrug. "You said to be flirtacious and sultry."

"Tongue?"

I give him a hard stare. "No," I snap.

"Long kiss or short kiss?" he asks.

I raise an eyebrow, then lean foward and grab Liam by the shoulders, kissing him for two seconds before pulling back.

"Like that."

Liam stares at me for a moment, blinks.

"Oh," he finally says. I smile at his dazed expression.

"Why do you ask?"

He swallows. "I was just...trying to get a picture of the situation."

I cross my legs and lean back. "So what do you think? Flirty enough?"

He runs a hand over his hair. "Um..."

I almost laugh. I've never seen him caught off-guard like this.

"Need a second opinion, Mr. Donovan?"

He stares at me for a moment, as if unsure what to say. I lean foward, grab him by the shirt collar, and lay one on him. He stiffens and I pull back.

"Like I said, flirty enough?"

He stares at me for a moment. "Yeah."