Arthur Kirkland

London, England

March 14, 2010

Research Lab: America and Alcohol

Purpose/Problem: To deduce the effects of various forms of alcohol on Alfred F. Jones.

Background: In this lab, I have prepared, in advanced, 9 drinks of varying origins and potency. As I have never witnessed, first hand, any intoxication of the country due to his striking tolerance for such substances, I will be refraining from drinking, as this normally causes undesired effects. The country in question has this ability caused by his ridiculous strength and inexperience in such things.

Hypothesis:

Materials: whiskey, gin, martini, ale, scotch, red wine, white wine, vodka.

Procedure:

Bourbon was up first, though it took a good three hours or so for anything to change in him.

"You know who really gets under my skin sometimes...that England"

My curiosity was peaked, was the alcohol finally doing something?

"Yah, it's been hundreds of years and he still hasn't said anything about it..."

"What hasn't he said?"

"Well you see, ever since I first became a country, got independence from him, I've just wanted him to be proud of me. He's never believed I could actually do anything. I've done most of this for that bastard. I'm the most powerful country in the world today! There's no real way to go up from here! And what do I get? Nothing. He doesn't say, 'hey good job' or 'man I'm so proud that you're my little brother'. Nope. Though he probably doesn't even consider me his little brother anymore, who am I kidding...he probably thinks I'm just his loud-mouthed, useless, naïve, hero-complex, ex-colony that can't even do anything. F*cking Arthur probably does think all those things..."

"Oh Alfred, I'm sure he's really proud of you. He probably thinks of you as his ally, little brother...his best friend..."

"Yah right, there's no way in hell that's true. The only time I would be able to get something like that out of him is when he's drunk. Wait. Scratch that. He only ever just complains more about the Revolution when he's been drinking. I wish he would talk to me about this stuff when he's sober...but no. It's still such a touchy subject, I can't even bring it up. Doesn't he know it hurts the hell outta me too? But I wish we could get rid of that tension that's still between us. Then sometimes he gets a bit violent about it too when he's drunk. It doesn't really matter to me though, I can hardly feel anything that happens like that physically. I could be bleeding all over the place, but it will still barely register. It's all this damn strength. The only time I feel it is if the country itself is hurt. That's why I react the way I do to those situations...that's why the Civil War hurt so much...Pearl Harbor...September 11th...It probably surprises everyone, how they affect me, but that's pretty much why it happens...I like you...you just sit here and listen to my ramblings"

Gin was next up. It affected him very quickly now that his blood was saturated with alcohol. Though the second that I got some in him, he couldn't pay attention to a thing that I said.

"Well Alfred, how are you feeling?"

"Me? I'm feeling great! Oh what's that!"

Looking over, I couldn't figure out what he was looking at, but just as quickly, he was up and out of his chair. He dashed over to the wall, staring at something before coming back.

"Can we go talk outside?"

"Outside?"

"Yah, I read somewhere that being outside can have a phy- Dude! Your eyes are like, super green! Have you ever looked at your hand for a long time? It's weird...Oh my god, my shoes, one's not tied right! Ever wonder who was the first one to decide to snowboard? They must have been all, 'oh dude, you know what would be fun? Nailing my feet to a plank of wood and falling down a mountain'. Or mushrooms, who decided to eat that...'hey theres a funky looking umbrella thing growing on that dead body, let's eat it!' Popsicle...it's such a weird word in a british accent. I don't think they can sell muffin tops if there was never a muffin bottom...then it's just a super short muffin. Why did anyone ever make a corded phone? It's just a super useful tool for strangling people. I always lose one of my socks in the washer...maybe there's a gnome or something living in there that only likes right socks...how do you even tell if it's a right sock or a left one? This fuzzy stuff on my jacket, what's that even for! To keep the air around my shoulders warm! Is this even really useful while flying?..."

"Hm, interesting"

Next I tried just a simple martini. A few minutes after consumption, Alfred decided it was a good idea to address the whole bar, while standing on a table.

"Who in here is ready to rock! Let's get this party started already!"

Luckily this test was being performed in the American's land, who knows how something like that would go over in England. He pulled out a karaoke machine, lifting it up on stage and giving the most...interesting rendition of Ricky Martin's Livin' La Vida Loca that I had ever heard. He beckoned me to meet him over there, but I kept my distance. Oh but he did not stop there, he gave everyone free drinks and returned to the dance floor. The young man managed to gain quite the crowd there. Everyone was quite fascinated by the strange ability of his to move fluidly, even when impaired. The whole spectacle was very interesting to an observer though, the way that everyone acted like it was a normal occurrence just baffled me. I would have to ask Alfred about it later.

Next up was ale, a British made drink, so the consequences of ingesting it would be interesting on the American. At first glance, not much changed, though he did sit a bit straighter, that is, until he opened his mouth.

"Well chap? Care for another pint? I am enjoying our time together quite nicely. Though it is hard for me to understand the need to write observations at such a time"

Curious. His accent was obviously just a work of time and mocking, but it was not half bad. He sounded like quite the gentleman when he was not butchering my beautiful language with his ridiculous slang.

"Ah Alfred, the Queen's English makes your speech patterns sound very dignified, much more so than that dreadful accent that you have acquired over the years"

"Oh my accent is right fine. It is simply a compilation of each of my region's accents, leaving a quite universal feel to speaking with it"

"Well I suppose it cannot be helped. If only your people would have held onto the accent that they were born with, your entire country would sound proper"

He had a much more regal feel to him, a noticeably varied vocabulary, too bad it had to go away after the next test.

Scotch was next up. Observations of it lead to but one conclusion, temporary amnesia.

"Wh...where am I?"

Had I given him too much for one night?

"You're at the bar down the street from your home"

"My home? Wait, who are you? What am I doing here?"

"I'm Arthur...Arthur Kirkland, your elder brother..."

"Arthur? Um ok...but why are we here?"

"We were just out for a drink, that's all"

"Really? Do we do this often?"

"No...Well, not where we can have a civilized conversation anyway, though that is my fault"

"I doubt it's your fault. Arguments are never caused by one side"

"You...I wouldn't go as far as to say that, but it's a nice sentiment"

"Oh I'm sure some of it is probably my fault haha!"

"No, not at all..."

"Aw stop getting all down on yourself! Is this how you act every time we go out to drink? Haha no wonder we need alcohol!"

"Well if that's how you really feel..."

"Wha...I was joking! Man you're a sensitive dude..."

"Look I just...Oh there's no point, you won't remember this conversation anyway"

"Dude chill. I'm sure whatever the reason was that we came here, we totally enjoy seeing each other!"

"You really think so?"

"Think so? I know so man! You seem like a cool dude, after all...But um...What was your name again?"

The next one, red wine, turned out to be the most mellow reaction of them all. He took a few sips, immediately his energy levels dropped. Every word out of his mouth was actually...understandable. His ridiculous laugh and Hollywood grin disappeared, replaced by normal ones. He seemed so...indistinguishable like this, like he was just another person sitting in the bar. It was a bit disturbing as to the reaction. I did not know if I liked this. He didn't seem like America like that, like Alfred...In fact, he didn't even seem like an American at that moment, he could have passed for a European.

"Arthur, arn't nights like tonight great?"

"How so?"

"We're both here, just sitting and talking. It's nice to get away from it all and be able to just sit here and talk to you all I want"

"Oh that, yes it is nice"

"All the crap happening in the world, we don't need to worry about it here"
"That's quite a...mature thing to say Alfred"

"Hmm? I guess it was"

I was almost done with the experiment, only two left. This one was just a straight up whiskey. All I was hoping for was a different reaction than the last one. I stopped to take a drink of my tea when two large arms wrapped around my torso, pinning my arms to my side and nearly making me drop my tea on the floor.

"Alfred, what are you-"

"Aw man dude, you're just so awesome...I can't believe I don't hug you more"

"You don't hug me because...your grip is ridiculously strong, and I enjoy my personal space"

"Psh personal space, you're too grumpy for that! All you need is a few more hugs!"

"Well if you would excuse me..."

I made my way off of the chair, but to no avail. He had be pinned completely and there was very little I could do to stop it.

"Ok, just let go"

"No! Who knows what could happen to you if I let go! Something bad could, that's what!"

"It's just ten feet away! Release me this instant"

"No...I don't want you to go away again!"

This whole experiment brought up more than I thought it would. This being one of those things.

"Fine Alfred, fine. I'll stay here. Even though I would have been right back..."

"Well, I didn't want to take that chance ok?"

"I just wish you would remember any of this...then maybe I would talk about it with you"

"What are you talking about? Of course I'll remember! I'm the hero remember!"

"Yes but...I mean, of course you are. Now will you let go? You're crushing my ribs"

"Ah! I'm sorry!"

Finally we reached the last of the substances, this one was the most dangerous by far. Vodka. Russia's favorite drink, though it was not always associated completely with the communist nation. I just have him a shot or two, knowing how very little should give us a reaction by now. He pulled something out of his jacket pocket, though I heard the loud noise hitting the roof before I saw the weapon he had been carrying.

"Alfred! Why would you do that, someone could have been hurt!"

"Someone could have been hurt? Someone here has been hurt and do you know who caused quite a bit of it? You, you bastard!"

He pulled the gun back down, drawing it straight to my neck. I knew that this last one was a bad idea. I could only hope that he came to his senses before someone got hurt, or worse. Most all of the patrons has now vanished, the gunshot ran them off. That only left me.

"How does it feel huh? Having the gun pointed at you this time!"

"Alfred please, just calm down alright. You've just been drinking too much"

He pulled his arm back, I closed my eyes and braced for impact, but nothing. He instead hit the spot right next to my head, causing a quite large hole to form. I only opened my eyes when I noticed a familiar crushing pressure on my chest.

"Oh God...Iggy I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me!"

Good thing I had only given him one shot.

"It's quite alright, dear chap. I shouldn't have pushed that far"

"Pushed? What are you talking about?"

"Oh nothing nothing, I'm sure you'll never find out"

Observation & Data:

Drink & Effect

Bourbon - Pensive/Remembering

Gin - A.D.D

Martini - Party

Ale - British

Scotch - Forgetful

Red Wine - Mello, near normal

Whiskey - Clingy

Vodka - Violent

Analysis:

Not only did ever differing type of alcohol change his mood rapidly, he also was not affected in the least the next day. The only side-effect of the experiment was the fact that he did not remember a thing that happened that night.

Conclusion:

I learned quite a bit about the American's tolerance for alcohol, but I believe that due to the fact that it is so ridiculously high, I will not be able to witness its effects for a long time to come.