"Check it out yo! Is this bowling alley kickass or what?" America shouted. The world was just about as peaceful as it could get, so America had the bright idea to go bowling with the G8. The others obviously lacked his knowledge of the high-tech sport, so spinning around to face them, he took the chance to speak in his "total hero voice." "Okay so we gotta change out of whatever shoes we're wearing and exchange them for wicked rad bowling shoes, you dig?" Before anyone could say whether or not they "dug," America bolted off to the counter at which bowling shoes were sold. Shrugging, the other 7 (and Canada) followed after him.
When handed his pair, France stared at them as if they were a rather large glass of rotten milk. "You 'AVE to be joking. Zese 'ideous shoes will clash TERRIBLY with my outfit AND my eyes!"
"Oh shut it, frog," growled England, who already had his shoes strapped on.
America bounced over to a position where he could be viewed by all the others. "Alright guys, does everyone have their badass new shoes on?"
"Actually, America, nobody let me get a pa-"
"Cool, let's go!" And America ran off to the lanes, leaving Canada standing in a daze at the counter. "Oh, well that's okay. I'll just watch everyone," he whispered with a horribly faked smile.
With much help from England, America managed to set up the computer-generated scoreboard. It was decided that Germany would go first. Situating his extremely heavy, yellow-red-and-black bowling ball in his hand, he stared intensely at the 10 pins across from him, planning out exactly how to get a strike or at least close to it.
Meanwhile, Italy sat on the sidelines, absent-mindedly humming "Marukaite Chikyuu" and looking around the room. When his gaze landed in front of him, however, he gasped. The bowler in front of him was pulling back their arm, which caused Italy to whip out his white flag and dash over to cling to Germany. The force of the hug caught Germany off guard, and his ball slid into the gutter.
"Shiza! Italy, vhat zee hell is vrong vith you?"
"I-I'm sorry Germany, b-b-but that scary man over there was trying to attack me with that b-big scary bowling ball!"
"You dummkopf! He was BOWLING, not trying to attack you! Now PLEASE sit down and let me be."
So Italy sat down. But having the attention span of a goldfish, he freaked out again at the next bowler and caused Germany to knock down a single pin. Prying Italy off of him, a heavily glowering Germany trudged off to sit on the sidelines.
Tears still welled up in his eyes, Italy hesitantly walked up to the lane. The weight of his bowling ball was causing him to teeter slightly; consequently, when he went to roll his ball he face-planted and got a gutter ball. Sniffling, he floated over to wait for his ball to return. He picked it up, wondering why it suddenly felt heavier… and dropped it before he even made it to his lane. Naturally, he missed the pins by a lot, but only missed the toes of himself and others by centimeters.
China was having about equally the same amount of difficulty. No matter how much he was reasoned with, he would not roll up his sleeves. As a result, he was unable to get a decent grip on the ball, which led to a series of gutter-landings. "Suck ball! This game ees so POINTLESS!" Muttering angrily to himself, he went to sit with his panda on the sidelines. America, too, was not participating.
"America you git, it's your turn!" England sighed irritably. America waved his hand dismissively.
"Naw man, I ain't gonna play. I mean, I'm so amazingly great at it I'll kick all your asses!" He got to his feet overly dramatically, striding over to the concession stand. "I'll have 3 burgers, with cheese fries, and a large coke, plus a slice of pizza," he declared.
"Pizza? They have pizza?" Italy remarked airily. And so, he ordered some slices as well.
Meanwhile, Russia was causing quite the disruption. His ball kept "accidentally ending up" on peoples' feet, and when it was actually his turn he threw the ball with so much force it earned him immediate strikes, as well as breaking the tops off of some of the pins. There wasn't a single moment where a blank grin was not on his face.
"Sir, that is destruction of public property AND you're supplying these innocent people with broken toes! I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the manager exclaimed heatedly. He seemed to shrink down a size as he noticed Russia's disturbingly blissful smile.
"Oh, but it just kept slipping out of my hands! If I have to leave, though, I think I will." The poor manager never noticed that as he led a still-smiling Russia into the parking lot, he was retrieving his pipe from his jacket.
England and France, surprisingly, were quite gifted at the sport. Though they only achieved a handful of strikes each, they never ended their turns with more than 1 pin standing. By the time everyone had cycled through their turns about 10 times, "Arthur" and "Francis" were both across from the first place slot on the scoreboard.
"You cheating WANKER!" England shouted. France crossed his arms casually, although he was glaring daggers at the other country.
"'Ow DARE you accuse me of zuch vile zings, Angleterre! I would NEVER be caught cheating!"
"Well there's no bloody other way you could have done as well as ME! Frog!" Before they knew it, the two men were in each other's faces, and a split second later they were wrestling each other to the hard wooden ground, spitting out insults that weren't all bowling related.
Meanwhile, a certain brown eyed and black haired country realized that he had not taken his last turn. Silently, he lifted his white and red ball, staggering slightly. He rolled it, completely unnoticed by the others… and got a strike. The scoreboard shuffled, and first place was now taken by Kiku Honda.
As if they shared a brain, everyone turned toward the scoreboard. Locked in a frozen combat position, England and France's expressions were washed over by utter shock. America shot to his feet, knocking his coke and burger to the floor, and bolted over to Japan possibly faster than he ever had moved in his life. He clapped the quiet man on the shoulder so hard Japan almost collapsed under America's hand. "Holy cow dude, you totally just won! Well that's that, let's go home now!" Sooner than anyone could digest America's words, he was out the door.
Italy swallowed his last bite of pizza, smiling beamishly with his eyes closed as usual. "Wooow, that was fun!"
"He didn't even do anything the whole time…" everyone thought in unison. With that, they all left. Well, ALMOST everyone left…
"Um, guys? You forgot about me…" squeaked the soft-spoken voice of Canada, speaking to everyone's backs.
THE END
