She face contorts at the taste of the liquor, stinging and burning on the way down. It's like death, sludge, not refined and sparkling like the stuff she's used to. She'll have to rinse out her mouth with water or juice later.

"Do we get a pass?" Jessica mused aloud. "I'm not so sure about that. I've got Samuel and Barbie breathing down my neck, reminding me that I've got a job to do all the freaking time. And I've got the worst Tributes you've ever seen, purposely antagonizing me. It's like they want my life to be a living hell, but then they flip out when I want a bottle. It's like come on, you know?"