"God Britain every time you cook I wanna die!" cried America having a flash back to the first time he ate English food, he remembered crying that he was scarred for life.
"Now now America, let big brother France cook you a delicious meal to wash away that gruel."
"Really? With cake and everything?"
"Sure as long as you take sides with me next time we have a war."
"HEY NOW THAT'S RUDE!" yelled Britain.
"No problem! I can see why you would want me, after all I am a super sexy, bad ass, blood thirsty, american, hero!"
"H- hey now, come on that's not fair..."
"Oh don't be sad britain, here take some of Big Brother France's food-" France was cut off by Britain, "Don't refer to yourself in third person! And keep your bloody french cuisine! I'll come back with food so amazing you'll never make fun of my cooking again!"
He stormed out and went to his room of black magic, and of all the creepy things to choose from, he picked up the phone, "Hello?"
"Yes hello this is Britain speaking."
"Ah I've been expecting your call."
"You have?"
"But of course, what can I do for you?" "I need you to fly out here immediately, it's important."
"I'm on my way."
They hung up the phone discreetly on each end, "Heh, what they don't know is I still have ties from my many provinces. France and America will not know what hit them."
The door opened behind him, "Oh that was fast? Please come in come in India."
In walked a man with long flowing black hair, tanned skin, and purple eyes, wearing a white sherwani get up and a white scarf.
"So what was it you needed again?"
"Ahem well you know my cooking isn't the best? So I was just wondering if you would help me out?"
India jumped on Britain's back, "Sure thing buddy!"
Cut to- India was sitting at a table waiting while Britain went into his kitchen to make some meals for India to try. Britain came out with a few plates of hellish food. India stared at it, gulped, and poked at it with his fork nervously.
"Well go on." Britain was smiling so brightly, India was temporarily blinded.
"Uh right?" India took one bite and his eyes widened and sparkled, "This- this is-"
"Yes?"
India's purply eyes went dull and rolled to the back of his head. His tanned skin went white and he fell back out of his chair gagging, "B- Britain! I thought you wanted to eat with me not poison me!"
"It was really that bad?" Britain said sobbing in a dark corner.
India shot right back up, "Woah wait that's your real cooking!"
Britain nodded. India looked at the food once again, "oh god you need my help... I'VE GOT IT BUDDY!" Britain looked up with pleading eyes.
"Check it out!" India Pulled off his scarf and unrolled it to reveal tons of different spices!
"You carry all those in your scarf!"
India threw the 'food' into a huge pot and started to dumb spices into the pot and stirring. Then he pulled out random meats from Inside his coat and dumped those in as well.
"... no wonder you always smell so much like curry..."
"I'll ignore that for now! And done!" India poured the thingy onto a plate for Britain to taste. "The trick is to put in so many spices you can't tell if it's good or not!"
Britain took a spoon full, "Hey you're right, this isn't half bad... Although... It looks a lot like your cooking India?"
"no no! Just serve it in England all the time and it'll be considered English food!"
"Yeah all right! Let me give it a try and we can bring it back to that idiot france and America and they can worship me like the god I am!"
"Woah we're competing with French food?"
"yeah?"
"nothing nothing, go ahead give it a shot."
The next day!
Britain kicked the door in and saw France and America awaiting his creation.
"BEHOLD!"
In a glowing shining light the food was glittering and they couldn't believe their eyes! They each took a bite...
"Its good!" said America starting to gobble.
"Yeah it's alright but Indian take out doesn't count as your cooking Britain," said France disappointed.
"No I cooked it myself! Tell them India!"
"Eh sorry buddy, I guess it really is just Indian food. My bad."
"But I still cooked it you wankers..."
THE END!