"Just let me know if you see anything you like," the American said from behind the counter. "I won't know what to do if you see anything you like. I was just told to say that to customers that walk into the shop."

The Englishman frowned. "Why did you pick a pawn shop to learn more about your working class?"

The younger nation laughed. "'Cause I like watching Pawn Stars."

The older nation walked around the store. "You do know that working a pawnshop isn't going to be like Pawn Stars, right?"

"Well, duh, it isn't like the actual show. So far you're the only customer that's come in," the American complained. "I thought tons of people would be coming in to sell me cool stuff. Oh, and even if some peeps came in with cool stuff I wouldn't be able to buy it from him. My supervisor doesn't trust me with making deals with customers on my first day."

The Englishman chuckled and picked up an old lamp. "Did you know that before you took on this job?"

"No," the younger nation admitted. "Why didn't you warn me?"

The older nation set the old lamp down and smiled. "I think its more interesting to watch you figure it out on your own."

"Is that why you're visiting me at work?"

"Yep." The Englishman walked to the dark back corner of the store. "Why isn't there any light in this corner?"

The American left the counter to join his friend. "I don't know. I'm not the person who designed this building, and my meanie supervisor didn't tell me."

"Is there even merchandise back here?"

"Yep," the younger nation answered as he picked up a doll from the shelf hidden in the darkness. "This corner is where the shop keeps all the messed up looking kid toys." He handed the doll to the older nation. "That's Princess Cloudy."

The Englishman turned the doll around in his hands to study it. "Did you name it?"

"Do you think I would give a doll a lame name like Princess Cloudy?"

"No," the older nation said handing the doll back.

The American smiled. "If I were to name this deformed looking doll I would name it something way cooler like Bomb-Bomb-Betty."

"Bomb-Bomb-Betty?"

"It was the first name to come to my head," the younger nation said as he placed the doll back on the shelf.

"Your really weird," the Englishman said laughing. "How do you know that the doll's named Princess Cloudy anyway?"

"My jerk of a supervisor told me," the American answered. "He said that Princess Cloudy is the only item in the store that can't be sold."

"Why?"

"The creepy doll protects the shop or something." The younger nation shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I zoned out when my supervisor explained the story. It was too long and boring for my taste. If it had a musical number or an action sequence I would have listened."

The older nation began walking away from the dark corner. "You really need to work on your zoning out problem, America."

America laughed and followed his friend back to the front of the store. "So what job did you pick when you were forced to learn about your working class? Did you pick a job that sounded like it would be awesome, and turned out to be super lame?"

"I choose police officer," the Englishman answered. "That was about five years ago. My boss is probably going to be asking me to take a job to learn about my working class soon."

"What job are you going to take then?"

"Police officer."

"Again? Seriously, dude? You don't want to broaden your potential?" the younger nation asked. "I don't really know what that means. It's just something I've heard smart people say. Anyhow, why don't you want to pick a new job, England?"

England sighed. "I tried working at a restaurant once. It really didn't end well."

"Really? Were you a waiter? Did you have to wear a stupid outfit, with a stupid hat, or something?"

"No. I was actually-"

America cut him off. "Then you had a bunch of rude customers! Did Belgium ever tell you about the time she worked at a chocolate shop? It was like last year or something on Valentine's Day. She had all kinds of super rude customers."

"I was there when she told that story."

"Oh yeah. So was it rude customers that made that job suck?"

The older nation sighed. "No. I was actually the chef."

"How did that go wrong?" the younger nation asked as they made it back to the front of the store.

"Apparently my cooking ability is a little behind the ability of my citizens," the Englishman said sounding defeated.

The American eyes widened. "Wow, those British dudes have to be like master cookers or something. They must like make Jesus food or something. The food you make actually does taste good. Well, except for those gross scones you make a lot. Those taste like the fuzzy stuff I find on my car floor. Don't ask how I know that. Well besides the scones, your food is really good. It's just not at Jesus food level. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Not really, but I guess its supposed to make me feel better," England said sighing. "I'm still going to pick police officer next time my boss asks me to learn about my working class."

"Okay, whatever dude," America said looking around the store. "So, are you going to buy anything?"

"Probably not. I just came here to see you bored-"

The older nation was cut off by the voice of a little girl. "Nobody leaves the store without taking or giving something."

"Dude, did you hear that? It sounded like a little girl, but it can't be a little girl. We're the only two people in this whole store. My meanie of a supervisor is off on his stupid lunch break."

"Its probably just one of the merchandises making noise."

"Like the cool fish that goes on your wall and sings Don't Worry Be Happy?"

The Englishman looked at his watch. "Yeah, probably. Well I got to get going."

"Nobody leaves the store without taking or giving something," the voice of the little girl repeated.

"I probably should find what's making that noise that way I can get it to shut it up." The younger nation laughed. "Where are you headed, anyway?"

"France's place. He has a new painting he wants to show me." The older nation frowned. "The picture is probably going to be another drunk naked person. I really don't want to go."

"Nobody leaves the store without taking or giving something," the little girl's voice repeats.

"Then just don't go," the American said. "Stay here and help me figure out what's talking."

"Sorry, but I really better go. I did promise frog face last night at the bar," England said before mumbling something under his breath about making promises while drunk.

"Nobody leaves the store without taking or giving something."

"Well, I hope you have fun. I doubt you'll have as much fun as you'll have if you stayed here with me, but you might have fun. I really don't know. I find paintings somewhat boring," America said. "Are ya positive that you don't want to hang out with me?"

"Nobody leaves the store without taking or giving something!"

"Seriously, what's with that toy?" the younger asked before his friend could answer his question. "Is it even a toy? It could be one of those talking fish. I think this shop sells those."

"I have no idea, but I don't have time to help you figure out what it is," the Englishman stated as he grabbed the handle of the exit door. "Why is the door locked?"

"Nobody, not even you, leaves the store without taking or giving something!" the little girl's voice says, but this time louder.

"Dude door locking plus creepy little girl's voice getting louder. I'm starting to think that it equals something flipping scary is about to happen."

"You're getting freaked out over nothing. Its probably just one of the toys." England lets go of the door handle. "Just unlock the bloody door. I'm sure you have a spare set of keys."

"Nobody, not even you Englishman, leaves the store without taking or giving something!"

"Dude! How did it know that you're an Englishman?"

The older nation went back to the counter. "Whatever is making that noise probably just has some prerecorded messages. Just get your keys and unlock that door for me."

"Nobody, not even you Englishman, leaves the store without taking or giving something!"

"There it goes again! I'm starting to freak out!"

"If you're too freaked out to open the bloody door, then just give me the keys."

"Give something or take something. That door will remain locked until you do."

"My supervisor doesn't trust me with keys yet. Bro, the little girl's voice is getting really creepy. How did it know that the door was locked?"

Before the Englishman could answer the American's question one of the creepy dolls that used to be in the back of the store fell on top of the counter.

"Give something or take something!" the doll repeated in her little girl voice. "That door will remain locked until you do!"

"Princess Cloudy?" the younger nation asked petrified. "You, you, you're alive? Bro, that's like seriously messed up!"

Princess Cloudy turned her head all the way around to face him. "I protect the store. I wouldn't be able to do it if I wasn't alive, right?"

"Uh… yeah… I guess so…."

The doll laughed. "Exactly! Now Mr. America why are you letting an Englishman leave without taking or leaving something? The store can't stay in business if he only looks around."

"I guess that's true," the American said nervously. "Uh… England can you do what the doll wants so it'll stop freaking me out?"

Princess Cloudy turned her head forward to look at the Englishman. "Yeah, England can you do what I want for your friend wouldn't piss his pants?"

England put his hand in his pocket and took it back out. "I left my wallet in the car."

America's face turned white. "Please be joking, bro."

"Then leave something!"

"I don't have anything."

"Lies!" the doll screamed. "Mr. America, grab one of those razors! The Englishman can leave us his eyebrows with us! Nobody leaves this store without taking or leaving anything!"

The younger nation did as the doll commanded, and grabbed one of the razors sold behind the counter.

The older nation backed up. "Are you really going to do what that doll says?"

Princess Cloudy gave an evil laugh. "You don't understand Englishman. Mr. America has to do what I say because the ghost of the original owner of the store possesses me!"

The American's face turned even whiter. "The dolly's right. I don't want to piss off any ghosts. I've watched enough horror movies to know that pissing ghosts off is a really bad idea."

"You got to be kidding me."

"Shave his eyebrows!"

America jumped over the counter to grab England. "I'm sorry, but I really don't want to piss off a ghost." He placed the razor on his friend's face. "Who knows maybe you'll look even better without the bushy eyebrows. Maybe this is a good thing."

"No!" the Englishman screamed. He screamed until the world turned black around him.

England woke up. It was all just a dream. He sat up in his bed just to make sure that he still had his eyebrows.

"Oh, thank goodness."

Those bushy boogers he liked so much were still there. He still had his eyebrows. He had just horrible nightmare.

He put his hands on his head to touch his eyebrows. "Thank, thank, goodness."

His phone made a buzzing noise. He picked in up from his nightstand. It was a voice mail from America. He clicked a few buttons and entered his password to listen to it.

"Dude, Eng-Land! I'm learning about my working class by working a pawnshop! Business is slow! Come by and visit!" the message said.

The Englishman erased the voicemail. Then scrolled through his contacts to find the American's number. He clicked call.

"I'm not going to visit you! I like my eyebrows too much!" he said before his friend could say anything.

England hung up his phone and smiled.

"Dodged a bullet!" he said smiling to himself.

A/N

Look CarrotUndaSchtick I wrote you that scary America and England story you asked for! I don't think I made it as scary as you liked. My brain got a little carried away with having America work at a pawnshop.

On a side note, there's a reference to another story I wrote in here.

If you notice a grammar mistake let me know in a review. The sooner I fix it the better.