So . . . I got bored and started wondering what would happen if one of the states went to a world meeting as America. One thing led to another and this happened! So thanks and enjoy Ol' Switcheroo.
Ol' Switcheroo
"Did ya do it?" West Virginia asked.
"Of course," Nevada replied. "Did you think I'd chicken out or something?"
"I dunno. Just get Cal, alright?"
"I'm here!" the western-most state declared seconds later, striding in through the open door. In his hand was a large black box. "Now, sit down in that chair and I'll make you look pretty."
Westie glared at him. "I don' wanna look pretty. I told ya wha I needed ya to do, fairy freak."
"Hey, don't insult me. You need my help," Cal reminded him.
"Alright. Just hurry up, will ya? The meetin' starts in little over an hour."
England had gotten a call from one of America's children telling him to pick their father up, something about a vehicular infraction or something of the kind, so he was headed down the backwards-driving streets to the annoying American's house.
When he arrived at the patriotic abode, he knocked on the door a few times and waited for America to come out. It wasn't long before the country showed up outside the house.
"Hey, Britain," he greeted.
"America," England replied. "So, you can't drive?"
"Nope. So, we goin'?"
England noticed something was a bit off with America's accent, but he decided to ignore it. Instead, the two men hopped into England's rental car and started down the road to the meeting.
Ned and Cal –plus one of the northern states who had heard about the plot –were gathered in Westie's room. They had a computer stand all set up like it was in those Hollywood movies, and they had a headset apiece. Westie was currently walking into the world meeting.
"The eagle has landed," Cal told his siblings. "I repeat, the eagle has landed."
"Can't you just say he's at the meeting?" Rhode Island asked.
Cal rolled his eyes. "What's the fun in that? We're like spies infiltrating a top secret government facility; I think it calls for codes."
"You've been watching too many movies," Ned accused.
"I'm California; of course I've been watching movies. Now back to the plan. Eagle, do you have eyes on the targets?"
Through one of the microscopic the cameras the states had hooked up to Westie's glasses, they saw him roll his eyes. That must mean he was in the meeting. He sat down at the table and quickly scratched a note onto a scrap piece of paper.
Falcon, I've got eyes on the targets. And I hate using these codes.
Cal scoffed. "Just keep it up. No one will suspect you." Westie wrote down another response, which made a few of his siblings laugh.
Right, me writing down half a conversation with myself is completely normal.
"Focus Eagle. Now, talk to England and see if you can pull this off."
Westie tried to aim a glare at his brother, but it was hard since he couldn't see him. Instead, he struck up a conversation with the British country.
"England, how's it goin'?"
"As well as expected," the island nation replied. "You?"
"Ah'm fine."
England frowned in confusion. "America? What's wrong with your accent?"
Westie hissed under his breath. "Uh, ah spent a lot a' time with the southern states recently. They must've influenced mah speech."
"Yeah," Rhody said over the earpiece "southern states are annoying."
"Shut up," Westie growled, earning him a concerned look from England.
"America? Who are you talking to?" he asked.
"Uh, no one," Westie lied.
Before England could say anything else, Germany started the meeting, effectively ending the conversation.
After a while, some of the usual squabbles broke out. At one point, France and England tried yet again to strangle each other. They ended up knocking Westie over, causing him to crash into the table on the way down. A glass of water fell with the collision, splashing Westie in the face.
"Darn it awl," he grumbled, getting to his feet.
Cal started laughing, earning him strange looks from his other siblings. Westie was going to be in for a huge surprise.
England and France stopped their fight when they saw America get to his feet. Something was seriously wrong with his face. It looked like it was . . . dripping? Wait, was he –no, this was America they were talking about. There was no way. But England had to ask.
"America, are you wearing makeup?" he questioned.
Westie blanched. His makeup was running? But Cal had promised him it was waterproof! Just to make sure, Westie dragged a finger across his cheek. Sure enough, some of the skin-colored soupy mess came away.
"Dammit Cal, ya told me this was waterproof," Westie hissed.
"I lied," Cal sang. "Eagle, leave the nest. I repeat, leave the nest."
"Um, America? Who are you talking to?" a quiet nation that Westie swore he had seen before asked.
"Nobody. Bye ya'll," Westie announced seconds before hightailing it out of the meeting.
They watched him go, confused. Where was America going? After a while they decided it wasn't important and continued with the meeting.
By the time Westie managed to run home, his makeup was almost half gone. Good riddance, he thought. It had been unnatural anyway. Ned, Cal, and Rhody were waiting on him, smirks on each of their faces.
"Oh righ', this is awl very funny," Westie grumbled. "Laugh it up, ya heathens."
"Well, there's one thing you don't know about the epic fail this plan turned out to be," Ned laughed.
"Oh lewrd, wha?"
"Dad escaped," he explained. "And he started running to the meeting. Without changing."
Westie's grimace turned into a grin at the thought. If he didn't change, that meant he was still in his pajamas. Please tell him that Cal was still tapped into the camera system. He had to see this.
America stormed up to the meeting room's door. This was insane. One of his kids had locked him in a closet just hours before the meeting started, and he had just gotten out. Without a moment's hesitation, he threw open the door and stomped inside.
Everyone turned to the sound of a door slamming open and gaped in shock. There stood America, who had run out only fifteen minutes before, wearing nothing but light blue pajamas with shiny red stars.
"America? Vhy are you wearing pajamas?" Germany demanded.
"The states locked me in a closet!" America hissed, stalking over and sitting down at his seat.
"That doesn't explain why you're wearing shiny pajamas," England added.
"I had just gotten up!"
France grinned an evil smile before questioning the American. "So, you came out of ze closet?"
"Yeah, I had to; the states locked me inside," America said, clueless to what the Frenchman was implying.
"Non, that's not what I mean."
It took a few seconds, but America finally understood what France was trying to say. "Oh, shut up!"
The meeting continued as normal, though once and a while one of the countries would glance over at America and snicker. Why was he wearing shiny pajamas of all things? It was just too odd, even for him.
When America got home from the meeting, he confronted Ned since he knew that the desert state was the one who locked him in the closet. Ned pointed him to the ringleader of the escapade instead of taking the blame. America guessed he didn't want to take the chance that he might get dish duty or laundry duty. For the gambling state, one would think that he would be more willing to try the odds.
When America found West Virginia, the southern state had just finished wiping off all the prosthetic makeup Cal had applied. He was back to looking like his normal hick self, thank goodness.
"Westie?" America began, darkening the doorway of the state's room. "We need to talk."
"'Bout what?"
"About the stunt you pulled at today's meeting."
Westie sighed. "Ah just wanted to see if ah could get away with it. Ah guess ah'm sawry."
"You guess?" America asked, crossing his arms and staring at the teen.
Westie rolled his eyes. "Fine. Ah'm sawry pa. Ah didn' know Ned was gonna lock ya in the closet. He was just sapposed to keep ya home."
"Well, it worked. And now you've got to own up, kiddo. Trash and dishes for a week," America decided. "Have fun."
"Ugh, this ain't fair," Westie groaned. "Ned an' Cal did just as much as ah did."
"But it was your idea," his father reminded him. Westie sighed, but accepted his punishment all the same.
Oh well. At least he had fun. Next time he'd be sure to make Cal use waterproof makeup and Ned use duct tape.
Tada! What did you think? I tried to write a decent state fic without using New Jersey, New York, or Massachusetts. Did I succeed? Random note: I've had the song at the end of Paint it White stuck in my head for the last two days. It's been driving me insane! I don't even speak Japanese! Anyway, thanks for reading!
~C