"Come on, Artie!"

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no, Alfred!" Arthur slammed his locker shut, and stomped down the hall in an irritated haze. Alfred, the source of hi displeasure, quickly followed him.

"Why not?" He whined loudly, gaining a few stares by the students that were still left inside the school. The Brit halted in his march, and turned to the American with his signature scowl.

"Because I don't to spend my Saturday watching that barbaric game you Yanks call 'Football'." The taller frowned.

"But I already bought the tickets!"

"Then next time, you'll think of asking beforehand instead of wasting your money." Arthur sighed. "Why don't you ask your brother or Kiku to go with you? I'm sure either one would love to." He turned to leave, but Alfred grabbed his arm, preventing him from taking another step.

"But I want to go with you!" Again, Arthur sighed and opened his mouth to protest only to have it stuck in his throat, eyes widening slightly. The git had painted his best 'kicked puppy' face across his face. His normally clear blue eyes were blurred and glassy. His lips formed a mild pout, quivering slightly.

The shorter face palmed and groaned. "Fine, I'll go with you to the bloody game!" As soon as the words left his mouth, Alfred's faces lite up, smiling his movie star smile.

"Really?!"

"Yes, now get your hands of me!" Arthur said, wrenching his arm out of the football fanatic's grip.

Alfred pumped his fist into the air, jumping excitedly. "Awesome! The game starts at seven, so I'll pick you up around six to get something to eat, okay?"

Arthur nodded. "Alright, but I'm not eating McDonald's."

"Fine," The other pouted, "We'll get Burger King."

"That's the same thing!" Arthur shouted, but Alfred was already have way down the hall.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" He hollered, waving goodbye.

The next day, Alfred showed up at Arthur's house like he said he would. When said Brit opened the door, he could help but snicker. Alfred wore his team jersey and jeans, but Arthur wearing I white bottom-up shirt and black slacks.

"Dude, what are you wearing?" He said, poorly concealing his amusement. Arthur looked down at his attire, not seeing the problem.

"What's wrong?"

"We're going to a football game."

"I am aware of that."

"It's gonna get hot, and the seats are most likely dirty." The American chuckled again at Arthur's grimace. "Then go change."

After Arthur changed into more appropriate clothes, both teens drove to the nearest fast food place. Yet again, the two got into another argument. This time, it was over what to eat.

Finally, they made it to the game. Alfred was quite proud of himself for managing to get his hands on front row tickets. Even Arthur was impressed, but it's not like he'll admit it.

Throughout the game, Alfred was like a hyper 5 year-old on crack. With each touchdown his team got, he went wild. He cheered so loud that he deafened almost everyone within twenty feet radius, much to Arthur's distress.

Though Alfred was having fun, Arthur couldn't be more confused. He thought American football would be similar to Rugby, but it was nothing like that at all! Even when he tried to ask friend a question, he would just continue screaming. Poor Arthur could nothing but watch big guys tackle each other across the field.

By the time the game was over, Arthur still didn't understand what was going on. As they made their way into the parking lot, Alfred nudged his buddy.

"Good game, Right?" He asked, smiling widely. The other just shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess, but it seems that you Americans are far to obsessed with money." Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Well in the beginning, the referee tossed a coin, then you, along with everyone else, kept shouting 'Get the quarter back! Get the quarter back!'"

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring Arthur along.