A Short one-shot inspired by my country's pitiful performance this evening…*Sighs*
Disclaimer – I do not own Hetalia or its characters
Slamming his empty teacup down, England let out a half suppressed a growl, the final whistle had blown and his team had lost, they had lost their second match. The Englishman let out another growl as he watched the Uruguay team celebrating; he couldn't believe that his World Cup future rested on the shoulders of a singular country. Standing up he made his way over to his phone and dialled a number that he didn't usually use, after two rings the phone was answered.
"Ja?"
"Germany…" England hissed through clenched teeth "Put Italy on the phone"
"Ja…" The German gave up easily as he heard the other nations tone and England heard Germany sigh as a quiet "Italia… Britain vants to speak vith you!" was heard through the phone. It only took a few moments before the ever excitable toned drifted down the line.
"Ve~ Britain, what would you like to talk about huh?" Composing himself as much as was possible the Englishman growled down the phone at the Italian.
"Italy… Listen very closely to me" Not hearing a response from the Italian England continued "You had better win your next two matches understand? Or I shall not be held accountable for my actions against you" The Itallian responded very quickly the England's threat.
"Ve~ I promise I'll try my best…" He whimpered, his voice suddenly becoming very quiet wail before the phone cut out "Doitsu, Doitsu, help me! Britain's scaaarrryyy!"
Putting his phone down with a satisfied smirk, England made his way to the kitchen, a cup of chamomile tea would be just lovely to calm his nerves.