This is it, the final moments of the 80th annual Hunger Games. The suspense creeps over the entire country and grips it sternly, just as President Snow likes it to, in these crucial final hours. Within the time that remains, four more will meet their bloody and gory end, while one more will continue on to a life of fame, fortune and glory. The five that currently remain are Gerome Washingbeard VII, Blake Cooper, Queen Bee, Sydney Ivashhov and Anne Foyer. Each has ployed a different survival strategy, all of which have been successful until this point. My name is Alfred J. Pennyworth, and I was the butler of Bruce Wayne, last of the Wayne dynasty. Here in District 2, both of our other tributes remain: Anne Foyer, and Sydney Ivashhov.

Using some of the money that was left to me by Thomas and Martha Wayne after their deaths, I will send a silver parachute into the heat of the bloodbath. Without a second thought, I know what I will send. At this point in the games, weapons are illegal to send, so I decide to send a bundle of District 2’s specialty pastry. They are called “Stonehenges,” and what it is is a collection of forge baked bread centered around a hot butter and fudge dip. Giving the tributes this will surely give them hope that someone supports them. Being tributes of the career districts prompts a lot of hate from the other districts.

I begin to walk towards the town square where the Hunger Games mailing office is. The area is buzzing with the jumbo televisions blaring the sound and live feed of the games. As the buzzing spectators see me coming, a division forms. The crowd grows silent as I approach with the package, and it’s as if they can sense its importance. I lay the package on the desk of the postal office, and a large bill adjacent to it. Once more, with silence following me like a tail behind a lion or a fierce tiger, I pace and swagger back to the hill of Wayne Manor. Without a tear shed or a cry stifled, I mourn for Bruce, and without need of asking around, I know I am the only one to do so.