President Coriolanus Snow was having a private dinner tonight. And...you knew what that meant.

Poisonings.

Whenever someone crossed Snow he'd have them over to the Presidential Palace for a big fancy dinner, wine and dine them and have a lovely time and then...they'd stumble over dead in the cab back home.

What made this method so effective was that Snow would eat too. Drink from the same bottle. He drank the poison too...quickly taking the antidote after. But it made him look trustworthy and safe...and it worked.

But he did rely on you heavily. His personal nurse. You thought when you took the job it would just be helping the old man with normal, run of the mill checkups you had no idea it was helping him expell poison from his system every few weeks.

But now you know the drill have the antidote, a little plate bread roles and a glass of warm milk all ready.

The president walks too calmly for a man that's just poisoned himself into the lounge. He smiles at you coolly. Cold. Like his name. "Ah, there you are dear." He says giving you an almost paternal little nod. "Would it be too much trouble to give an old man some milk?" He asks, feigning innocence.