Obviously this person's a hazard. Stupid people are dangerous.

You'd have thought we planned it," says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile.
"Didn't you?" asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light.
"No," I say looking at Peeta with a new sense of apreciation. "Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in."
"And Haymitch?" says Peeta. "We decided we don't want any other allies in the arena."
"Good. Then I won't be responsible for you killing off any of my friends with your stupidity," he says.

I always hated it when TV reporters stuck a microphone in the faces of people who'd just lost a home or a loved one, wanting to know how they felt. They felt like shit. They hurt, and they didn't know how they were going to get through the night. They wanted to scream and cry and hit the guy with the microphone.

There's a thin line between genius and bottom-barrel stupidness. I hover delicately on a tightrope between the two, wondering where I'll land if I'll ever fall.

Because, sometimes, things happen to people and they're not equipped to deal with them.

There's a basis for the war, historically, in the 'Hunger Games,' which would be the third servile war, which was Spartacus' war, where you have a man who is a slave who is then turned into a gladiator who broke out of the gladiator school and led a rebellion and then became the face of the war.