A/N:First of ten or so. Inspired by many things, including a fic about a dentist- drugged!Russia and my need for crack. Consider this a prologue. Enjoy, if you dare.


"...Drinking contest! It's been ages since the last!"

"Sons belle! As long as there's wine, I'll partake."

"Bloody hell... Again?"

"Perhaps England would like to sit this one out, da?"

"I foresee a painful meeting tomorrow, aru..."

"Indeed..."

"Io voglio giocare! Can we, Germany?"

Germany rubbed at his temples, feeling a migraine coming. He always wished for these meetings to go smoothly. To be able to sit down, discuss what needed to be discussed, than go home knowing he wasn't in any immediate danger of committing homicide. But, when it comes to these world summits, nothing ever goes the way they're supposed to.

America is supposed to sprout hair-brained schemes, England and France should bicker and throw punches discreetly over the table, Canada is always forgotten, and Italy never shuts up about siesta or pasta. Not to mention Russia's very presence can throw an entire room into random panic at any moment. His plans for an easy day of organization and planning are always shot to hell within the first few minutes.

Why does today have to be any different? Must they always insist on playing these annoying games, at America's urging? They always end up doing something incredibly humiliating, and he's left to clean up the mess. If only they could do something HE knew the rules to...

Wait... That's it!

"Schweigen! Will you all shut up for a moment?" Germany demanded, standing up and slamming his hands down on the table to capture the room's attention. All eyes turned to him, mouths half open and ready to complain. They all expected him to shut this party down, just like all the other times they wanted to have some fun, and he knew it. Well, they were all in for a surprise.

"Thank you. Now, by a show of hands, who wants to participate in this drinking contest?" Germany asked with a smirk, enjoying the varying degrees of shock that painted the different faces around the room. Eventually, several hands lifted into the air, and Germany counted each one with a sweep of his bright blue eyes.

"Neun? Nine, including me?" He smiled, nodding in quite the thoughtful manner. He turned smartly on his heels and approached the black board. With a swift wave of his hand across the dirty surface, he cleared a space and wrote in white chalk four simple words.

St. Vitus: Punishment Game.

"If we are to par take in a drinking contest, we shall play one of MINE," Germany crossed his arms smugly across his chest, smirking rather openly to each individual seated around the oval conference table. He was met by silence, a second miracle; counting how the strictest country among them was not only willing, but suggesting, a round of boisterous drinks.

Japan was the first to find his tongue.

"Germany-kun? How do we play this... St. Vitus?"

Germany laughed, gesturing to the black board as he explained.

"Ganz einfach! Each of the players shall bring their own alcohol. Each will be given a card numbered from one to nine, placed face down. The person who has the number one is the loser, and is subject to punishment. He who draws the nine is the winner, and picks the punishment. As an added bonus, the loser must drink the entire bottle of the winner's beverage. The cards are then shuffled and the game repeats."

Germany finished with a final wave of his hands to the words he'd written, flashing his teeth in a wide, and vaguely creepy, grin. He stared at each of the participating nations in turn, waiting until it seemed like most of the room was practically holding its breath. A lot of the countries were waiting, wondering, if Germany had finally cracked under his own pressure.

"Haha! I'd say this meeting is adjourned, ja? See you all tomorrow, and don't forget your nation's favorite poisons!"

And with that, the blonde picked up his jacket, and walked straight out the double doors. The rest of the nations watched him go, all with variations of the same thought running through their heads.

'What the hell have we done?'


Translations (I used an online translator. Don't kill me if some of them are off a bit):

Sons belle! - Sounds beautiful! (French)

Io voglio giocare! - I want to play! (Italian)

Schweigen! - Silence! (German)

Ganz einfach! - It's simple! (German)