It had been a long day for Alfred. He had a huge exam in math that he bombed. It was raining. And just about everyone in DC decided that they would go to the Starbucks Alfred worked at and complain about how long it was taking them to make their coffee or how the chocolate syrup on the whipped cream was drizzled in a uneven way.

Pfft. Since when did everyone turn into such a drama queen?

Even though he hated his job at Starbucks, a college kid had to work. How else would he get money? Not getting money means being poor. Being poor means no dates. No dates means no chicks. And no chicks mean not being a hero. And Alfred was DEFIANTLY a hero.

So, as Alfred barely caught the bus, he had just about had it when there were no seats on the it. Grumbling to himself, Alfred shuffled past a million pairs of feet and stinky armpits, a few grunts from people who he accidentally bumped into, and even one "Watch were your going, you fat ass American bastard."

Alfred finally decided to stand next to the bus driver, because it was literally the ONLY place to stand if you didn't want to sit on someone. There wasn't anything to hang on to, but that was better than having someone breathe down your neck.

Trying to balance while the bus drove to its next stop, Alfred was thinking of who to ask out next. Seeing as everyone wanted to go out with him, his choices were endless. I mean, who wouldn't want to date him, right? Right.

Alfred was deciding between Ivan's sisters, Natalia and Katyusha, when the bus stopped and open it's door to a few more people that could fit in (if that was even physically possible). Alfred didn't notice a man stagger up the stairs of the bus and hunch next to him.

The man was obviously intoxicated. He smelled of alcohol and was swaying back and forth while he stood. He was also shouting about a "flying mint bunny" to no one in particular.

When the bus started to move it happened the first time. The drunken man lost the remaining balance he had and collapsed on top of Alfred. Alfred was just about to tell the man to get the fuck off of him, until he noticed he was drunk. So instead of making the remark, Alfred got up and helped the man up as well. 'Cause that was the heroic thing to do. Plus, the guy wasn't half bad looking.

"Sorry 'bout tha'," slurred the man, with a goofy smile.

Mm, a British accent, Alfred thought.

Alfred (like the rest of America) was a sucker for British accents.

"No prob. I'm Alfred, by the way." Alfred held out his hand.

""m Arthur…I thin'." It took Arthur a good 10 seconds to realize that Alfred had his hand out for him to shake. It took him another 15 to grab onto it.

Though just as he did, the bus took a right turn and Arthur crashed into Alfred for the second time.

Now, Alfred knew he was hero and that people just couldn't keep themselves off a hero. So he helped up Arthur once again and just shrugged it off.

The bus driver noticed that whenever he took a turn, Arthur would inevitably fall on Alfred. He though it would be funny to see two men on top of each other in plain view of everyone. Being the romantic man that he was, he thought it would be a great time to spark up a possible romance.

Unfortunately, Alfred didn't hear the laughter which sounded a lot like "ahohohoho" that belonged to the bus driver and didn't have a chance to save himself from what was to come.

So then began the very bumpy ride on the bus.

Every single bump, turn, and stop lead to Arthur falling on the American. And after every single fall, Alfred would calm his nerves, get up, and help the drunk man up only for him to fall down a few minutes later.

After about 7 times of this cycle, Alfred was contemplating staying on the floor with the drunk British man straddling his lap inches away from his face.

32 times. 32 god damn times of him falling on me. Please God, give me strength to not shoot this guy or myself in the head in about 5 seconds, Alfred thought.

The British man on the other hand was happy as ever, singing an old Beatles song (badly).

When Alfred's stop was in view, he almost jumped out the moving bus in joy.

"Well, this has been fun and everything, but this is my stop," Alfred said to the Brit as he helped him up one last time.

The bus stopped and Alfred gladly stepped into the rain. Rain was better than being assaulted 32 times.

Well that's a big weight off my shoulders, Alfred thought. Speaking of shoulders, where's my…OH SH-

Alfred turned around just as the bus doors closed, with his backpack in the hands of Arthur.

Alfred heard the muffled sentence the drunk said to him through an open window as the bus drove off.

"The last twelve times was for fun!"

Alfred was then splashed with cold, dirty water by a car passing by.

He was wet, cold, and tired with no keys money, cell phone, or keys to his house.

Fuck. My. Life.

"Today, I got on a bus that was so overcrowded I had to stand next to the driver with nothing to hang on to. A drunk man got on and for the rest of the half hour journey continuously fell on me, when I got off he smiled and told me as the doors were closing "the last twelve times was for fun." FML. Nameless-United Kingdom

After I read the original FML above, I pictured Arthur as the drunk man and just couldn't help myself XD

If you guys couldn't figure out, France was the bus driver lol.

Hope you enjoyed this! Review and you'll make me happy! :)