Who needs panache when you get to see such charming faces on your screens everyday?

[Finnick offers up a grin.] You're on the back of a giant turtle. Who happens to be sick at the moment, if the decay and rotting smells haven't alerted you to that yet. [Finnick Odair, the most cheerful of men.] We're currently dealing with rations, and not too long ago, a hunk of satellite fell from the sky, releasing spectres that possessed people.

[A beat.] The Fire Sector should have what you're looking for.