and wolves beneath their seams; nylon/abel blitz
Oct 4, 2021 20:02:23 GMT -5
Post by charade on Oct 4, 2021 20:02:23 GMT -5
O’Malley.
I had to do some snooping on account of him being related to a tribute from last year, but like—who the hell has fifteen children?
Like—has them has them instead of grabbing a couple orphans from the nearest halfway house to train them, I mean that’s what my mother does. Like, how boring must district eleven be? Like—do they have nothing else to do but abuse their mattresses?
I wonder if the O’Malley mother can even walk anymore.
They're called contraceptives sweetie.
I get that he’s like Six’s cousin or whatever, but I hear those lower district bumpkins get a little too friendly with their family members youknowwhatimean? Anyway, it’s lunchtime and that means time to get to know my future victims to make it easier to slit their throats.
Gawd, I’ve practiced on dummies for so long, I’m kind of excited to get to kill a tribute for realsies.
“Hiii,” I say as I drop into the seat next to him. I really wish I could indulge in more than grilled tilapia in mango salsa and yucca fries but I’m on a strict diet; gotta maintain my muscle mass and physique you know?
I swear there better be fish somewhere in the arena or I’m going to have to have a word with my sponsors. I give the farm boy a winning smile that doesn’t match how hard I’m staring at him and casually dip one of my fries in chipotle aioli.
“So what’s your deal O’Malley? Volunteering for the fame or cause there’s nothing better to do back home?”
I mean, gawd, who does he think he is? Volunteering is for people that can actually back up the choice to do so. I’m pretty sure I could break him over my knee. Heck, a strong breeze could probably break him. Maybe I’ll find a nice cliff to shove him off in the arena.
Boys named Abel are allergic to rocks aren’t they?