"I mean, they're not trying to make things better for everyone! They're trapped in a broken system designed by bad people, perpetuating bad institutions because that's the only way to get ahead! I really did love the range of characters we get to see, from people who are absolutely up to their eyeballs in evil intrigue to people who are too airheaded to notice all the blatant oppression."

John wants to say more but also, he doesn't. And as in most cases like this, he doesn't. (He's surprised he's said so much in front of his parents anyways.) 

So mom does the talking for him. "So wait, they're making them kill each other, and perform for the camera while doing so? How old are these kids?"

John sighs. "I don't remember exactly. Probably just teenagers? It mostly skewed older, but there was one girl who was really young who died and it sparked a riot in her home district." 

"That's... awful," John's mother says. "Children are important! If they took you away to..." she bites her lip. "I don't know how the parents there just let that happen to their children." 

"Well if they tried to do anything about it they'd die, that tends to put a damper on things."

"I would die for my son. And I'm sure any other good parent feels the same." John's mom says. 

"I think we can clearly see from history that even though parents love their children, that alone won't actually end an oppressive system. You also need some kind of workable plan for changing things. Like, I'm sure there are parents in the setting who die trying to save their kids, and the Hunger Games happen anyway."

"I... I'd like to think I could do something," John's mother says, frowning, but she's clearly a bit shaken. 

"Well, did they at least bring down the corrupt regime by the end? Or are they stringing us along for further installments?" John's dad asks. "Do we have to wait for our catharsis." 

"They didn't bring anything down," John says. "I think there are other books in the series?" He looks at Rosy for confirmation. "I'm sure they'll make us other movies. The person in charge of the games died, at least. Or well, was put into a situation where he was probably going to choose death. But we may need to wait a year or two for the death of President Snow." John makes a face at the name. 

"Yes, there are more books, and yes, the corrupt regime is going down in them."

"Oh, good," John's dad says. "Glad to know the catharsis is forthcoming, even if it is a ways off. And everyone dies gruesome and horrible deaths so that they truly pay for the their crimes, yes? Or do they have a peaceful transition of power where everyone agrees they'd done terrible things but they've seen the errors of their ways?" 

"Mostly the gruesome thing. Though I'd argue that peaceful transitions of power are both rarer and more valuable, in real life and in fiction."

"They are, aren't they," John's dad says. "People tend to hold on to what they have, and even harder if they think they're going to lose it. Historically, often to the point of violence. And in fiction people tend to enjoy more explosions and fighting than talking through problems. Though talking through problems can make for good fiction too. Remind me to show you 12 Angry Men one of these days," he adds, looking at John. 

"Is this another old silent movie, dad?" John asks with a sigh. His dad is always showing him old movies, and the acting in them is often atrocious. They mostly aren't silents, but still. 

"Oh, no, they talk in this one. And the acting is the point, this time, I promise. You'll have nothing to complain about. Even if it is in black and white." 

John sighs. Occasionally there are good ones in there (Casablanca) but the Rosebud movie, what's it was called, was boring and not fun. "If you say so, dad." 

"You could bring your girlfriend, if you want. If it's too boring I'm sure you could find other ways to entertain yourselves while I'm enraptured by the plot and not looking in your direction at all." He spears a meatball and bites half of it, chewing. 

"Brian!" John's mother says. "Don't encourage them to... it's bad enough that..." she sighs. "You two are being safe, at least, yes? I remember what it was like at your age, and these days it seems so much worse." She shakes her head. "Don't do anything foolish, alright?"

John does not want to talk to his mother about any of this! "It's... we're fine, mom, I promise, they teach us about all that in school today. Promise!"

"I promise not to do anything ill-considered!" says Rosy. "And watching old movies with you sounds like fun."

"Dad's taste in movies is weird," John warns her. "But I suppose it'll go over better with you here." He smiles at her. It totally will. 

"I like adventure, remember?"

It's true she does. "You do! You do." he says, still smiling. 

"Just nothing too adventurous," his mom says, spoiling the mood, her mind clearly still on things John wishes it wouldn't be. "I'm too young to be a grandmother." 

"Mom!" John says. "We're not going to... they teach us things in health class! Promise!" Okay, condoms it is then. Magical birth control or no. 

"Just wait until you're graduated and have a steady income and left me all sad that you're gone," she says. "Then I'm sure we'll be happy to spoil your adorable baby boy or girl rotten."

"Mom!!!"

"I'm sure John will do what he thinks is right, when he decides to," John's dad says. "We came out just fine. John, I'll be happy to be a grandfather whenever it happens for you." He pauses and smirks. "The spoiling is guaranteed, though. That's also in the contract. Nothing I can do about it."

Now is probably not the time to remind anyone—or has she told them in the first place? She forgets—that her mom had her during her last year of college. Nor is it the time to start fights about the 'it's in the contract' mentality of relationships. Rosy busies herself with the last of her spaghetti.

His parents have been doing most of the talking, so they still have a bit more to go, but when he notices that Rosy is nearly done with her food, he scarfs the rest of his. 

And then: "We should probably get back to math," John says, wishing he hadn't finished all of his homework so he could have a better excuse to escape. 

His mother looks like she's about to argue, but his dad comes to the rescue. "Go, enjoy your numberless math. I've got the dishes for tonight."

"Thanks dad," John says, pulling out his chair, wincing a little at the realization that he hasn't entirely been...

"Has he been forgetting to do his chores?" his mom asks his dad, picking up on the nuance that John had really hoped she wouldn't. Damnit. 

"Only a little," his dad admits. "And it's young love. Or lust, or both" (damnit dad) "but regardless, he's earned a bit of slack. And I know he'll make up for it later." 

"Your father works hard too, John," his mom says, as John does his best to find an opening where he can run away. "Please make sure to keep up your part, girlfriend or no. No one wants to live in a messy home."

"Yes, mom," he says. There. That's an opening. Is Rosy ready to go? She's ready to go, right?

Now is probably also not the time to start a fight about chores being an oppressive system, but nevertheless Rosy finds herself saying brightly, "If dishes need washing, I can help!"

Oh no damnit Rosy why. They were about to escape! 

"Don't worry about it," John's dad says with a flick of his hand. "You two have fun." 

"Besides," his mom adds. "You're the guest, you don't need to worry about anything like that. And you're John's guest, my husband is right that we should shoulder the burden for the evening while my son entertains you. I appreciate the offer though," she adds with a smile. 

Oh good they can still escape and also this seems to have raised mom's opinion of Rosy somehow now can they please run away?

Okay, okay, she will not hammer on this point even though she kind of wants to. "Fair enough," she says reluctantly, and escapes with John to the dining room.

Oh thank goodness! Run away! 

"I'm sorry about that," John says, once they're out of earshot. "She's not normally this bad, I swear. She's usually more...." mellow? Sure, he'll go with "mellow than that. I mean, she's always a bit much, but... I don't know what's gotten into her. Sorry." 

"I restrained myself from pointing out that chore systems are oppression of children!"

John blinks. "I appreciate that," he says. He hadn't quite put it into words like that before, but chores have always felt unfair. But it's not like he has a choice in the matter. "I don't think it would have gone over well. But besides the chores there was... everything. She's not normally quite so... like that." 

"Like—" She shakes her head. "I probably shouldn't get into this. Remind me later. For now, Cozy Math?"

John is curious, but if she doesn't want to get into it... 

"Sure," he says, "Cozy math."

Cozy Math! It's so good and sparkly.