THIS IS NOT MY REAL ENTRY! Only part of it was. I just couldn't resist the ending. XD Sue me.

Oh, this is PG-13. Contains lots of curse words and raunchyness.

*

Pavement's muscles fit oddly in the black suit they dressed him in, but he couldn't deny how handsome it made him. The fabric was soft and stretched to fit every single inch of his demanding figure and he loved it. Under the coat was a stark white dress shirt that he was dying to take off and a bowtie that he thought was 'cute'. With his hair carefully combed back and gelled into a wave formation, Pavement couldn't lie and say he was nervous about anything. "I look fantastic," he told the mirror. Around him were three beauties, all of which were tall and thin and whom he wished weren't wearing any clothes at all. "Thanks, boys. You did a great job."

Flashing them a smile, he turned around and cracked his knuckles. "You'll do great," they assured him. It was only commonplace that they would love him. After all, he was Paul Afflvement, the hottest tribute to be reaped. "Are you nervous for your interview?"

"Hell no! I'm ready."

They smiled and he wanted nothing more than something else to be in their mouths. No, no, not the time for this. Gotta keep it fine so I can get to work and make all these stupid people fall head over heel for me.

"You're up next, better get out there," the bravest of the three days. Pavement blew him a kiss and walked out of the dressing room and into the hall of people. All the tributes were there, dressed to their best.

Well, all except for Sam Markaine from District Two. Sam wore a royal blue button up and dark black pants that made Pavement want to rip them off. He couldn't hold himself back well, and soon he was walking up and giving the beautiful boy a smile and a firm handshake. "Paul," he said, "and you're...Sam?"

The boy stared at him for a moment too long, basking in Pavement's glory with his soft, lush lips parted slightly. "Uh...yeah," he said, "yeah, I'm Sam. District Two."

Pavement gave him a second glance, then chuckled. "You're not as ruthless as Two's normally are. You ruthless elsewhere, pretty boy?" He winked.

The entire boy's head flushed a handsome red. I wonder if the rest of him is that red? "I...no."

"No?"

"No. I'm not ruthless anywhere."

"Oh, I can fix that." Pavement opened his mouth to say something else when a loud speaker sounded.

"Paul Afflvement is up next," they said. The crowd clapped and cheered and Pavement made his way out there without looking back at the boy. Time to show off myself, he thought. They better love it.

The man waiting to talk to him was fidgety, caved in, and something about him just screamed that he was new at his job. Hell, he looked normal. It was certainly a sight to see.

Pavement sat down next to him and grinned ear to ear. "Howdy."

"Okay," he started. "Here goes nothing."

He chuckled and Pavement was ready to tie him up.

"You've made me nervous. I'll be asking about those scars later, Mister, uh...F-of-mint? Paul F-of-mint, has anything interesting happened since coming to the Capitol? Any friends, enemies, anything?"

Pavement shrugged, then sighed a little bit as he settled into the seat. "I've met a few people. Training was fun, got to teach the babies a thing or two about and swords."

"Oh, a swordsman?"

"Since I was thirteen. My favorite weapon. Doesn't hurt that I'm amazing at everything, though." Pavement winked at him, "I'm amazing at some things I bet you've never even heard of."

The man flushed and was scattered in trying to decide how to respond. Eventually he got ahold of himself enough to ask, "So, during your training, I noticed a few things. One of them was a scar on that, er, intense chest of yours. I've learned you got it from an in-home surgery. Is that right? Tell me about it."

"Ah, yeah. My Dad patched me up after Mom number two accidentally stabbed me," he admitted. There wasn't a use in lying, and from the audience's aww's he said the right thing. He tried his hardest to set his face into something soft and innocent, but with Pavement there was some issues with that. "Can't help it."

"Three mothers, one father. You seem to be pretty close with the latter. Is this true?"

"Yeah, I do love my Father."

"And your moms?"

He shrugged. There was a moment of silence before the nervous man managed to collect himself again. "Sorry, I'm a bit new at this."

"Oh? I couldn't tell!"

"Thanks."

Pavement nodded, then flexed his muscles. He was having fun with the interview, but he'd be having much more fun if they were doing it less public and with less clothes. God, I need to get laid before these fucking Games start. What's this chub's name again? Cyril? Fuck him. Damn hot boys not fucking me. What's wrong with them?

"Something about you tells me that you're the most arrogant one here," Cyril said. "I bet you think you're better than the rest. I want to know in what ways you're better."

"In what ways? God, I didn't realize we had hours!" Pavement laughed and flashed his teeth at him. "I'm good at everything, man. Name it and I can do it. Swords? The best. Knives? The best. Hand to hand? Heh, you think these muscles could be beaten? Talking? Hell, look at me! Your dad? Even better."

Cyril couldn't help but chuckle at that. "You're dedicated to doing everything in the world? There has to be some other hobby you like doing more than the rest."

"Well, I've always held one fondness..." Pavement's voice became a whisper and he leaned forward, smiling as Cyril leaned in to talk to him. Glitter lined his sweaty forehead. "For screwing little men like you."

The amount of red he became was breathtaking.