Author's Note: This was inspired by a youtube video that I couldn't stop laughing at: watch?v=8gper3YkzMg
I do not own Hetalia, otherwise Hetalia would be much more historically accurate, and much less fanservicey.
I hope you enjoy! ^.^
It was a fine day in Britain, with all well, and traffic quite brisk. Arthur Kirkland, the personification of Britain, was out on a walk when he spied a large, rectangular container on the sidewalk, surrounded by a couple of people wondering at what it was. Arthur walked closer, and asked, "What's this all about?"
A person turned to look at Arthur with a puzzled expression, "It says it has beer, but only a Canadian can open it."
Arthur looked at the red fridge with a maple leaf emblazoned on it, and thought, 'What on earth is a Canadian?'
Arthur opened his cell phone, and dialed Alfred, the young personification of America, and waited for the younger nation to answer. The phone clicked and was followed by an over-excited "Hello!" that nearly blew Britain's eardrums out.
Holding the cellular phone farther from his ear, he said, "Alfred, there's a strange object in the streets, would you-"
"Dude! I bet it's some sort of terrorist deal! Get outta-"
"Alfred! It's harmless," Arthur cut off America's impending terrorist tirade, a hot spot for the freedom loving country as of late, "However, it says that you need a Canadian with a passport to open the latch. Isn't that one of your states?"
A loud laugh rang out over the phone, "Nah, man! That's my bro, Matthew's country, Canadia!"
"Oh, yes, that's right. I remember him." Arthur looked around, somewhat hoping the soft-spoken country would just happen to be in London just now. To his surprise, not moments after hanging up his mobile, a young man that looked just like Alfred with a dangling curl, and holding a polar bear like a plushie, walked up to the crowd around the machine.
"Oh, sir. Do you happen to be Canadian?" A person in the crowd said, the whole crowd looking at the young man with violet eyes. The young man released one hand on his polar bear, and pushed up his glasses at the bridge of his nose, causing the sunlight to bounce off the glass.
"Yes, I... I am." He reached into his pants pocket, and brought out a little leather-bound case, which presumably had a genuine Canadian passport inside. The crowd parted as he walked forward, Arthur watching with increasing interest.
'Wasn't it just a little too convenient that Matthew was right there after I called Alfred?' Britain thought to himself, but shrugged it off as he worked his way closer to the fridgerator, hoping to get at least one bottle before it was completely emptied.
Matthew placed his passport over the screen of the door, and with a small beep, the unlocking of the latch could be heard. He reached over to the previously impervious handle, and twisted it with a 'click'.
The crowd cheered as the young man passed out the chilled alcohol, making sure to hand the older personification a bottle. Many hugged Matthew, some shaking hands with him. They were acting as though he were a hero!
'Not so invisible now, eh?' Matthew thought to himself, as he walked away, Arthur fondly watching.
Arthur blinked, and his eyes grew wide at where Matthew had stopped. He stepped inside a large semi-truck, with the maple leaf and the brand name of beverage Arthur was currently sipping.
Matthew hopped into the driver's seat, and looked back at his cargo through the glass window, "One down, ten to go."
And so, a great number of nations acknowledged Canada that day; heralding him as the hero that held the key to the precious, refreshing drink.