The Battle of Hetalia
This is a Hetalia parody of the SpongeBob episode "The Battle of Bikini Bottom". Here's the cast list:
- America as Patrick
- England as SpongeBob
- Belgium as Shubie
- Hungary as Nazz
- Romano as Bill
- France as Nathiel
- Germany as Harold
- Switzerland as Mr. Krabs
- Austria as Squidward
- Finland as Thaddeus
Arthur and Alfred were at the mall. They currently had shirts on that said "Best Friend" with an arrow. The arrow on Arthur's shirt was pointing to the right, and Alfred's to the left.
"Where's your best friend now?" Alfred laughed.
"Alfred please this is childish," Arthur responded irritably.
"C'mon, where is he?" Alfred demanded.
Arthur sighed and gave in. "According to this shirt, my best friend is right here." He pointed to Alfred.
Alfred laughed and ran over to the other side of him. "How about now?"
Arthur's eyes went wide with shock. "Oh no! Please don't make me do this!"
"Just do it! I'll leave you alone after this."
Arthur grumbled and looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then he turned around, leaned his head down until it was touching the ground and supported himself with his hands, doing a handstand. The upside down shirt now had the arrow pointing to Alfred. "He's right by my side."
Alfred laughed obnoxiously and hit his friend on the back.
Arthur was blushing now. "Alfred, as much as I like these shirts, I do wish you wouldn't make a scene. Let's just buy them already."
As if on a cue, a woman with blonde hair and green eyes who worked in the department walked over. With a roll of her eyes at the silly scene before her, she asked, "Can I help you boys?"
Arthur immediately stood up, blushing more than ever. He laughed nervously and replied, "Yes, my friend and I would like to purchase-" He was cut off by loud sobbing. He looked over and saw Alfred with his face in his hands, crying. "What's wrong?"
"You've found a new best friend?" Alfred asked as tears poured down his face.
"What?" Arthur was utterly confused. "Why of course not!" He smiled and turned around, when realization struck him. The arrow on his shirt was now pointing at the sales associate next to him. "Aah!" He turned to face Alfred. "T-this isn't what it looks like!" He tried to calm his upset friend, but to no avail. He gasped and then yelled, "Alfred look out! Behind you!"
A brunette woman with green eyes suddenly walked up behind Alfred, holding up a T-Shirt. "Excuse me but does zhis come in-"
"NO! You're not my best friend!" Alfred shouted when he saw that the arrow on his shirt was now pointing to the customer next to him.
"We'd better get rid of these shirts! They're sending the wrong messages!" Arthur stated. He didn't care that they had been pointing to other people. In fact, he thought the whole ordeal was extremely childish, but he wanted to shut Alfred up and get the heck out of there before he embarrassed himself further.
He and Alfred ripped the shirts off of themselves. Alfred snatched the shirt that was in Arthur's hands and threw it, along with his own shirt on the floor and stomped on them until they were nothing more than pieces of dirty, torn fabric. The customer looked at the two friends like they were crazy as the saleswoman crossed her arms and frowned. The next moment, Arthur and Alfred were literally kicked out of the mall.
Arthur groaned and rubbed his head. "Maybe we should look somewhere else for outfits."
"What about the outfits those guys are wearing?" Alfred pointed to a bunch of men standing nearby. They were all wearing old fashion battle outfits. Half of them were blue, and half were red.
Arthur smiled. "Those are perfect!" The two of them walked over to a guy with dark brown hair, golden eyes and a strange gravity defying curl on the right side of his head. "Pardon me sir, but where did you and your friends get your matching outfits?"
The guy turned around. "Oh no, these aren't-a my friends!" He responded in a distinct Italian accent. "In fact I hate-a just about everyone-a here." He leaned down on one knee and took his hat off. "But my love of historical battles is-a so great, I join these losers every year to-a reenact the Battle of Hetalia."
Arthur looked puzzled. "There was a Battle of Hetalia?"
"What?!" Both Alfred and the Italian man said at the same time, looking shocked.
"Well, duh Arthur! It's only the most significant event in Hetalia history!" Alfred explained.
~Flashback~
"A long time ago, the town was divided into two groups. Those who spent all their time washing their hands like softies..."
A Frenchman was shown at a sink in a public restroom, washing his hands. "Clean as a whistle!" He exclaimed in delight as he held up his hands, observing them.
"And those who had more important things to do with their time."
A zipper was then heard being zipped up, followed by a toilet flushing. An American, who happened to look exactly like Alfred, walked out of a stall. He sighed in content as he scratched his butt and walked over to the sinks.
He held his hands up and looked at them. They had black grime and pieces of garbage all over them, a green mist emanating from them. "Looks good to me!" He started to walk out of the bathroom.
The Frenchman looked at him in repulsion. "Zat eez truly disgusting!"
The American walked back and frowned. "Oh yeah?"
"You can't go around our town touching zhings with those filthy mitts!" He gestured towards his hands for emphasis.
The American got closer to his face. "Oh yeah?"
"Yes!"
The American took a glove off of his left hand and slapped the Frenchman with it, making him fall to the floor. Then he tackled him and they wrestled each other.
Outside, a group of people wearing the blue uniforms were standing on one side of a field, while a group wearing the red uniforms was on the other. A man on the blue team used a shovel to pick up a pile of sludge and put it in a cannon. A man on the red team used a shovel to pick up several bars of soap and loaded them into another cannon.
"Wash your hands!" The red team all yelled in unison.
"Never!" The blue team shouted back.
The two opposing sides kept shooting at each other, soap and filth flying everywhere.
~End of Flashback~
"And that's how we won our right to wash as we please," Alfred finished with a proud smile on his face as he held up his slime covered hands.
"Ugh, that's not-a what happened!" The Italian man yelled as he stomped off angrily.
Arthur looked at his friend in disgust. "You don't wash your hands Alfred?"
"Never have, never will!" Alfred stated, which caused Arthur to flinch and stick his tongue out as if trying to get germs off of it. Alfred got right up in his face, frowning with his hands on his hips. "Does that bother you? Huh Arthur?"
Arthur thought back to a time when he and Alfred were at an ice cream shop...
Alfred walked over to Arthur with an ice cream cone in his left hand, and just a scoop of ice cream in his right. "They only had one ice cream cone," Alfred explained as he started licking the ice cream from the cone.
Arthur looked a little disappointed, but didn't want to upset his friend. "That's okay. Thanks for getting it." He hesitated a moment before licking the ice cream right off his friend's hand.
He thought yet again of another time...
The two of them were sitting down at a restaurant, chewing their food. Arthur swallowed and started talking. "So, anyway, I said-"
"Wait! You've got something on your tongue," Alfred announced with his mouth full of food.
Arthur looked down in surprise. "Really?"
"Here, I'll get it." And without warning, Alfred took his food-covered hands and pulled Arthur's tongue out of his mouth and grabbed a piece of food that was on it, but he ended up leaving more food anyway because of his filthy hands.
Arthur blinked for a minute and just sat there, not sure if that really just happened. It had grossed him out, but he didn't say anything for fear of being rude. "Uh, thank you."
Arthur had a look of pure disgust on his face. "Frankly yes Alfred, that does bother me!"
"Well then, I guess we can't be friends!" Alfred said stubbornly as he turned around and crossed his arms.
"What are you saying?"
"Ugh! Do I have to spell it out for you?" Alfred angrily walked over to a brick wall, then licked his left hand, which made all the dirt and grime wet. He then wrote "U R", saying each letter as he did so. He turned around and look confused. "How do you spell 'not my friend'?"
"Oh, come on, we can work this out!" Arthur tried reasoning. "We'll start a new life. Just you, me, and this can of disinfectant spray." He pulled out a can of said spray and began spraying it around everywhere. Then he walked over to Alfred. "Here, let me take your coat for you." He picked up the dirty jacket and started walking off with it.
"No thank you!" Alfred grabbed his friend's hand and pulled him back over to him, then took the jacket and put it back on. "I happen to like my various smells and germs."
"But being clean is so much better!" Arthur argued.
"Well says you! I like dirty!"
"Clean!"
"Dirty!"
"Clean!"
A German man with slicked back blonde hair and bright blue eyes walked up to the quarreling friends. "Uh, excuse us, but ve have a battle to reenact."
"Fine! If that's how it is, then I am joining the other side!" Arthur snatched the red uniform off of the guy standing behind him and put it on. The embarrassed guy covered himself as Alfred proceeded to do the same thing and took the blue uniform off of the German guy.
Enraged, but keeping his cool, the German said, "Oh come on, let's go play somevhere else." He calmly walked away with the rest of the men, leaving Arthur and Alfred alone.
Awhile later, Alfred could be seen standing behind a fort made of stone, looking through binoculars. Arthur snuck up behind him and "took" his nose.
"Got your nose!" The British man teased as he pranced away.
Alfred looked down at his face in a panic. He stormed over to Arthur. "Hey, give it back!"
Arthur held the "nose" high up in the air out of Alfred's reach. "Not until you wash your hands!"
"Oh yeah? Well I got your contacts!" Alfred took the contact lenses right out of Arthur's eyes and ran away with them. But after a few seconds, they melted in his hands. Arthur laughed and put his real contacts back in.
While Arthur was preoccupied with something else, Alfred gathered a bunch of spit in his mouth and spat it right at his face.
"Ew, saliva!" Arthur yelled in disgust.
"Do ya give up yet?" Alfred smirked.
Arthur took a napkin and wiped the spit off of himself. "Sorry Alfred, but a filthy slob like you is no match for a clean cut fellow like me."
"Your pants are falling down," Alfred stated suddenly.
"Really?" Arthur looked down.
"I'll fix it!" Without warning, Alfred shoveled up a pile of dirt and put it down Arthur's pants, then gave him a huge wedgie, pulling the underwear over the top of his head.
Arthur glared at him. "Satisfied?"
"There! You look good now."
"You could use a makeover though!" Arthur went over to Alfred and pulled his shoes off. "Ugh, look at those feet!"
Alfred looked down at his now bare feet. "What? What's wrong with 'em?" His toenails were yellow, chipped, and had fungus on them.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it!" Arthur tackled his friend to the ground and got out a nail filer and filed Alfred's nails, making them look much better.
"No! Not a pedicure! Ahh! No no! Not that! Anything but that!" He freaked out even more when Arthur pulled out a container of red nail polish and began painting his nails. He stood up and looked down at his feet in horror. "You sick little monster! Face my morning breath!" He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, right in Arthur's face.
Arthur stood there with a look of disgust on his face. His eyes watered because the smell was so bad. After a moment, he composed himself and pulled out a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste.
"You sir could use some dental hygiene!"
Alfred pointed to himself. "Who, me? My teeth are fine! See?" He opened his mouth, revealing yellow and black teeth, most of which were chipped.
Arthur put some toothpaste on the toothbrush. "A little toothpaste and you'll have teeth like mine!" He showed his own teeth, which were all intact and sparkling white.
Alfred yelled and ran away, but Arthur chased after him and managed to catch up to him. He brushed his teeth and laughed.
Alfred's teeth were now perfect. "Aahhh! Minty fresh! Taste pit evildoer!" He rolled his sleeve up so that his armpit was exposed, then grabbed Arthur by the hair and rubbed his face in his hairy, sweaty pits.
Arthur was more disgusted now than ever before. He actually had Alfred's sweat on his face! "I'm going to be sick," he uttered as he pulled a hand wipe out of his pocket and wiped his face. "I think you could use a little of this!" He pulled out a can of deodorant spray, shook it up, and sprayed it all over Alfred.
"No! Not deodorant!" He ran away, but the cloud of spray reached him, making him cough. The hairs on his armpits shriveled up and disappeared. Alfred took one sniff of his armpits and became sad. "My beautiful pit stink. It's gone!" He frowned at a smirking Arthur. "The gloves are off now! It's booger time!" He stuck his finger up his nose.
Arthur gasped in horror and ran away screaming. He ran all the way to his job. As he passed his boss, he warned him. "Run Mr. Zwingli! Alfred is digging for gold!"
As Alfred followed Arthur into the kitchen, Mr. Zwingli stood there in shock for a moment. "Gold?!" He smiled eagerly and ran into the kitchen as well, but stepped out a moment later looking utterly disturbed.
"Did you get any of Alfred's gold?" Roderich the cashier asked snootily.
"He's not digging for any gold I'm looking for!"
Back in the kitchen, Alfred had Arthur cornered. "Aha! I've got you now!"
A frightened Arthur looked around and spotted an onion that had been cut into a few pieces. He grabbed two of them. "Careful Alfred. I've got a weapon!" He threw the onions at Alfred and they hit him right in the eyes.
"Aah! Raw onions!" Tears poured out of his eyes for several seconds. When they stopped, he grabbed a scone that was sitting on the counter next to him. "That does it! See this?" He asked as he held the scone up.
Arthur smiled in amusement. "A scone? What are you going to do, eat it?"
"Oh, I'm not going to eat it." He took the scone, stretched it, and put it over his right foot like a sock.
"No! Not scone socks!"
He took another scone and put it over his left foot. "That's right! Your precious scones on my stinky feet!" He stomped his feet around.
"You better stop that!"
Alfred jumped around and laughed.
Arthur was seething with rage. He clenched his hands into fists and trembled with anger, glaring at Alfred. "You stop that right now!" He became so angry that he raised his fist and punched Alfred right in the face. He went flying out of the restaurant and into a nearby dumpster.
Alfred got out quickly, but then smiled as he looked at himself. "Hey, I got my filth back!"
"Not for long Mr. Sticky Shorts! You won't have your filth once I use this on you!" A frowning Arthur held a container of liquid soap in one hand, and a paintball gun in the other. He filled the paintball gun up with soap and water.
Alfred backed up against the dumpster. "No! Not soap! You wouldn't dare!"
Arthur walked over to him, holding the soap-filled paintball gun. "Try me."
Alfred used brute strength and picked the dumpster up, raising it above his head. "Stay back! I'll do it!"
"It's too late for that!" Arthur fired soap and water at Alfred. At the same time, Alfred threw the dumpster at Arthur. They both slid backwards and fell onto their backs.
Alfred sat up and looked at himself. He was sparkling clean. "My beautiful filth. It's gone. I'm squeaky clean!"
Arthur on the other hand was struggling to get out from under the overturned dumpster. When he got out, he looked down at his hands and cried. "I'm covered in muck and scum!"
"Man, to get my filth back I'll have to wallow in mud forever!" Alfred whined.
"It'll take weeks for me to get clean! I'll need twenty baths a day!" Arthur complained.
"Slather toe jam on my armpits."
"I'll have to disinfect my eyeballs!"
"Smear slime on my teeth!"
"And dry clean my uvula!"
After a moment of thinking, realization finally struck them. They giggled like school girls and ran over to each other, smiling.
"Alright!" They yelled in unison.
"Now that I'm filthy, I can spend all day getting clean!" Arthur beamed.
"And since I'm clean, I can get even filthier! Thanks Arthur!" He shook his friend's hand vigorously with both of his.
"No Alfred, thank you."
"You're my best friend ever!" They both said as they hugged each other.
"Hey what's-a going on here?!" The two friends looked over and saw the angry Italian man that they had seen earlier. "This battle isn't over until we-a have a winner!"
"Fret not, my friend," Arthur smiled. "For I have learned the truth. It matters not whether one is dirty or clean. For can cleanliness exist without filthiness? And would we know filthiness without cleanliness? We must not reenact the history that divides us! Rather we must embrace that which draws us together. All must be free to choose their own path." He looked to his friend. "Right friend Alfred?"
Alfred rubbed his arm in excitement. "Squeaky clean!"
"Mhmm. He has embraced the truth," Arthur declared proudly.
"Wow. I think-a the guy with-a the bushy eyebrows has-a taught us a valuable lesson," the Italian said.
"And what is that my son?" Arthur asked cheerfully.
The Italian man frowned. "That reenacting battles is-a really lame." He turned to his friends. "Come on guys! Let's-a play something more manly like football!"
"Or hockey," the German commented.
"Or knitting fluffy sweaters!" A Finnish man added.
The group of friends ran off yelling in excitement, leaving Arthur and Alfred behind.
"Come Alfred. My work here is done." Arthur walked off with Alfred following behind him, who was smiling like an idiot and continuously rubbing his head.
A/N: Last week I suddenly thought of this episode of SpongeBob. I don't know where it came from all of a sudden because I hadn't seen it in over a year, but I did and got to thinking, "I can totally picture England and America fighting over something like that." America is a slob, and England is such a gentleman. Once I got the idea in my head, I couldn't stop thinking about it and had to write it.