It was a quiet morning in the UN building, where all the nations had an office to work in, going through all the paperwork their bosses gave them to look through and sign.

England was online, looking at various news headlines on the National Public Radio website. Currently, he was looking in the section of world news, and he was about to click the link to the European section, when one on the front page caught his eye. His eyes widened in slight shock, and he clicked the article. Reading through it, his massive eyebrows went up in shock. Whoever did this was going to pay hell.

The article was, Thieves Hit Warehouse Holding $30 Million of Canadian Maple Syrup.

Yes, Canadian maple syrup.

He knew his ex-colony wasn't going to like that, he loved that stuff. England briefly pondered who would be stupid enough to do such a thing and waved the thought away. No country, knowing that the Canadian got passionate about the things he liked, would steal it like that. It would be suicide. Or maybe a mysterious natural death…

Syrup was like a national symbol to Canada, as he produced at least three-quarters of the world's supply. It was on his flag for crying out loud!

He sighed and turned off his computer wondering when the personification of Canada would find out this news.

Just then, England heard a loud shout of combined anger and surprise came from across the hall, where the North American countries worked. He was willing to bet his whole countries supply of tea that that was none other than the Canadian.

.:oOo:.

Canada raged, rather loudly, in his office at the UN building. Who? Who would do such a thing?

He could feel his body tense up in anger, the blood running through his veins.

"Someone is going to pay," he muttered darkly to himself, pushing the now broken desk out of his way as he made his way to the main meeting hall, intending to make this top priority until the culprits were caught.

Little did he know that three nations shook in fear in the nearest closet, regretting their choice to get drunk last night.

.:oOo:.

Germany was taking roll, when the door was slammed open, a very angry nation standing in the doorway.

"America! What is the meaning of this behavior?" Germany shouted and went to make a check by America, but was confused to see that there was already one.

Germany looked back up and cringed slightly at the glare that 'America' was giving him.

"DUDE. Germany, I'm right here," America said, raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of his carbonated drink.

Germany looked back at the other country and furrowed his eyebrows.

"For the last time, I. Am. Canada!" He shouted with much venom in his voice.

"Canada…? Oh, right…" Germany said taking a step back as the blonde nation advanced towards him.

"Now…" Canada said from the point where Germany usually stood, at the head of the table, "There has been a theft in my country today." He looked around the table filled with countries, most looking at him confusedly, wondering what brought on the sudden anger from the normally silent country.

"Do you know what they stole?" Canada asked, rhetorically, of course. "Maple syrup. And a lot of it."

This just confused them even more. Someone stole syrup? Why?

"And I want to know who did it," the Canadian said, looking into the faces of the countries of the world.

He noticed a certain trio looking everywhere but the Canadian and looking very, very uncomfortable. He watched them each for a few seconds, and then slowly walked closer the nearest one.

"So… Spain. What exactly were you doing last night?" he asked in a low whisper near the Spaniards ear.

Spain gulped, sweat dripping down his face. He stared at the table, not looking at the obviously angry blonde behind him.

"Cazzo! The bastard went out drinking last night," Romano said from the other side of the table, nonchalantly eating a tomato.

Canada glanced at Romano, and nodded, a cold smile gracing his lips. "Thank you Romano."

Romano just shrugged, "Nessun problema." He was used to such behavior, as he often worked with the mafia.

Canada returned his attention to Spain, "What were you doing? Were you alone last night?"

"… No."

"With who? Wait, don't answer that, obviously Prussia and France," he glanced at the duo and his assumptions was proven correct when they both flinched, he smiled darkly again.

"Well then, care to explain what you three were doing?"

"Well we went to the bar-"

"But it wasn't our-!"

"And then there was a hooker-"

"Yeah! … Wait, what?"

"And then we somehow found ourselves at that one-"

"But then we all somehow-"

The three kept talking over in an attempt to explain their previous actions.

Canada twitched at the noise level, honestly! "Shut up you three! And start at the beginning."

.:oOo:.

Ummm, yeah. I did run across an actual article about that. And then I ended up writing this, haha.

This is really random and not meant to be taken seriously. Hell, it's kinda crappy to be honest.

If I feel like it, I'll write about what the Bad Touch did the night before [I highly doubt that they are the real culprits in real life, lql].

If you want to see, just type in Canadian maple syrup stolen, lots of websites have an article about it, I just happened to find it on NPR first. [CBC, BBC, NBC CNN, NYT]