"My favorite line? My absolute favorite? Ever?" Claudius Templesmith—official emcee of the Games—leans back in his chair, the sheen of his metallic gray blazer shimmering like the sun on the sea as he shifts. He looks thoughtfully at a rapt Caesar Flickerman, seated next to him with his fingers intertwined beneath his chin in the most serious manner. Templesmith sighs, before stating slowly, and with great emphasis: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.”
Flickerman’s manicured hand flies to his chest and flutters gracefully over his heart, as he gushes to Templesmith about the emotion of his delivery that day, while Templesmith manages to appear simultaneously humble and uncannily self-congratulatory. Although Flickerman has held his position for more than Templesmith’s tenure, the duo possesses a most unique rapport. Their quick-witted repartee and mutual love for high fashion—imagine a pair of peacocks in a ring—leave no question that both of these men are distinct and well-loved fixtures of the yearly Hunger Games.
Each year, these men take us through the ins and outs of the preparation, execution, and follow-up to the Games, acting as our well-dressed windows to the exclusive tidbits and hidden emotions that bring the process to Technicolor life. “You know, there are so many facets to what we do,” Flickerman muses. ”We connect with the tributes, certainly, but most importantly, we develop real relationships with the members of our audience—in the Capitol and in the districts. And I couldn’t do that without this man right here.” He pats Templesmith’s hand, making him beam and blush simultaneously.
"Oh truly, especially with the Quarter Quell nearly upon us!" Claudius exclaims. "And Caesar brings a real passion to his work. He captures the meaning of the Games, the true spirit and necessity of the tradition.” Templesmith pats Flickerman’s hand. Quid pro quo on the admiration. He smiles wide and says: “People know me as the voice of the Games, but Caesar is the heart."