"Burgers and sex are the two best things in life, man. Heed my advice, I tell ya!" Alfred practically squawked at the gentleman in front of him, the United Kingdom, who was beginning to appear flustered.
The German heard that oh-so-familiar idiot's voice reverberating across the wall of the McDonald's. Hell, that punk was probably still a virgin. McDonald's only served greasy meat that was made of god knows what, and it didn't sit well with Ludwig's wurst-accustomed stomach. The duo's conversation peaked the Aryan's curiosity and it ate away like rust would a U-boat.
"What the bloody hell would you know about sex!? You're… Oh, right. You are eighteen. My, how time flies." Arthur became frustrated. He raised that kid from little sprout to the huge arrogant tree he'd grown into. It was hard for the man to let the fact that America had grown up sink in.
Ludwig continued to ear rape the distracting conversation that got more disturbing as time went on, making little chicken scratch in his notebook and pretending to be busy. He maintained that 'don't-bother-me-just-stay-the-fuck-away' face rather well, as he'd mastered it for years. Come on, he had to deal with Feliciano Vargas. That was more than enough practice.
The situation went way overboard when Alfred started playing with the vanilla milkshake and making obscene gestures at England. A food fight erupted and before he knew it, Arthur Kirkland's face was, well… Literally covered in white stuff. Germany had had enough of it. It was worse than being around France. He was angry and even a bit aroused, however that was possible.
"STOP IT, YOU IDIOTS! IF YOU REALLY WANT TO PLAY WITH MAKE BELIEVE SEMEN, THE EXIT'S RIGHT THERE! GET A DAMN ROOM!" The German snapped, his face now as red as the color that backed the Nazis' swastika.
Alfred stopped in his tracks and so did everyone else. They turned towards Ludwig in shock. Even the manager of the dingy fast food restaurant turned around. "Mama, what's See Men? Is that when you see daddy?" A little boy asked, tugging at his mother's hand and pointing at Ludwig. The woman covered her son's ears and glared at the blond who had caused the ruckus. Ludwig immediately regretted his actions.
He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Arthur, wipe that Scheiße off of your mug. You look like you've had way too much fun, my friend." Ludwig challenged the Brit. They'd hated each other ever since WWI – Ludwig was a part of the Axis and Arthur was a member of the Allies. In addition, they'd bickered over who had bigger balls ever since their little military feud. And, Ludwig was lusting over England's precious America… But Arthur wasn't that bad-looking covered in white, either… What if Germany got ahold of both nations?
"Oh, bug off. Don't you have a little Italian to be ramming into? Or is he shagging Grandpa Rome again? Tsk…" England snapped, now fuming. Ludwig was now truly offended. Shit just got personal.
"If we weren't in a McDonald's I'd fuck you up right here. Oh, wait. Your teeth are probably already as jagged as a donkey's, fat brows. No need for me to knock a few out. If only your little schwanz was as big as your eyebrows." Germany smirked, knowing he was obviously roasting the Brit. The fat-browed man clenched his jaw.
"Dude, calm down! We're gonna get kicked out, and you know what that means. No more burgers." America pouted.
"Alfred, stay out of this! Your cow-shit burgers don't matter right now. This German dickhead is stirring his own shit stew." Arthur growled. America looked truly offended at the 'cow-shit' comment. What? It's the truth!
"Fight me, Arthur. Whoever wins gets ahold of America. That's enough of an incentive for you, now isn't it?" Ludwig asked temptingly, aware that he wasn't letting them know that he'd soon take advantage of both of them. He knew that dastardly Brit still had feelings for his used-to-be bitch America, and Arthur Kirkland would probably surrender himself to gain Alfred back. How pathetic.
"And what if it's a draw?" Arthur challenged, crossing his arms while grimacing. The one thing Ludwig liked was a challenge. He liked that Arthur was so… feisty. "What the hell makes you think it's going to be a draw? Oh, right. You're fucked in the head – little pixies dance around you." Germany smirked, taking the piss out of his rival yet again. America could do nothing but sit in between the bickering men. He knew better than to interfere with his superior England, or the menacing Germany.
"Outside. Now." Ludwig got up and motioned for them to follow him through the double doors. After all, he was sick of inhaling grease and the smell of the homeless inhabitants that roamed Mickey D's. With his freakishly huge biceps, he grabbed both blond nations and shoved them into his Beetle. Hell, he didn't even need to prove he could win this fight. He already had.
"Keep quiet or I'll instigate with Russia and lure him into my house. The pipe's invited too." Ludwig smirked, looking at the two men in his backseat. England could have sworn he felt America shudder at the thought of Ivan Braginski. Germany turned on the radio and a promiscuous song by one of those British rock bands came on. Ahh, what was it? Why Don't We Do It In The Road.
England blushed. Hard. America looked out the window, wishing to be back at McDonalds stuffing his face. The Beetle was an incredibly small car, and there wasn't much room in the back seat for two nations. America felt something poke his thigh and decided it was just Flying Mint Bunny or England's shoe.
"And you think I can't see your raging hard-on. How foolish. I didn't know music was that much of a stimulant for you, Mr. Kirkland…" Germany chuckled, turning up the music. Arthur's shaggy bangs blocked his vision and he crossed his legs, but to no avail. America, still oblivious to the whole situation, had an itch to scratch. He proceeded to rub his leg up against Big Ben, thinking nothing of it.
"A-Ahh! Fuck! Watch it…" England hissed like a cat in heat. "Wait, what!?" America squealed, looking curiously at the growing bulge in Arthur's pants. "I've gotta do this!" The green-eyed male unzipped his trousers and proceeded to pleasure himself to the music. "Damn… You're bigger than I thought." Ludwig watched the Brit get freaky in the backseat.
America blushed and smirked at the hot mess that was England. "Big Ben... Damn, can I touch him?" Alfred asked. He fidgeted with and lowered his glasses as if to say 'Damn, that's sexy!'
Mr. Jones reached over to Arthur's massive throbber and worked his magic. Germany began to nosebleed. Lord, how distracted he was! He even had a boner himself. "Y-You're driving on the wrong side of the road!" England stifled a whimper.
China drove his little midget car forward, unaware of the circumstances, and the nations' lives nearly flashed before them. They clashed, head on, with the Chinese chump.
Isn't it a beautiful thing that nations can't die?
