Better Not To Give In To It.

I Poke Around In The Pile, About To Settle On Some Cod Chowder, When Peeta Holds Out A Can To Me. “here.” I Take It, Not Knowing What To Expect. The Label Reads Lamb Stew.

What Will Break Me Into A Million Pieces So That I Am Beyond Repair, Beyond Usefulness?

By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All. Haymitch Started Drinking Somewhere Around Witty, And A Nasty Edge Has Crept Into His Voice. "i Give Up, Sweetheart. Just Answer The Questions And Try Not To Let The Audience See How Openly You Despise Them.

And Once We Reach The City, My Stylist Will Dictate My Look For The Opening Ceremonies Tonight Anyway. I Just Hope I Get One Who Doesn't Think Nudity Is The Last Word In Fashion.

So, Here’s What You Do. You Win, You Go Home. She Can’t Turn You Down Then, Eh?” Says Caesar Encouragingly. “i Don’t Think It’s Going To Work Out. Winning…won’t Help In My Case,” Says Peeta. “why Ever Not?” Says Caesar, Mystified. Peeta Blushes Beet Red And Stammers Out. “because…because…she Came Here With Me.