I decided to take a break from writing my other story. I AM SORRY BUT I DO NOT HAVE MUCH MOTIVATION. R&R MY OTHER STORY, PLZ.

Anyway, this popped into my head randomly and I immediately started writing.

The ending is very half-assed since it's late at night... I might update it tomorrow. I am tired as hell right now so this fic probably won't make any sense. I got bored half-way though.

I speak decent Spanish so I decided to stick in a line to boast my knowledge. I'm so conceited... Use Google translator simply just request for the translated sentence in the reviews.

PLENTY of historical inaccuracies again; the characters might be a tad OOC, probably not, I'm just paranoid; and Mexico.
Yes, Mexico counts as a warning of some sort. I made him a shy, weak, and adorable uke. I just could not resist...
Italy, Germany, and a few other people aren't at this meeting and a few nation-tans that shouldn't be at there, are. Fake accents are insanely fake, and all that other shizz. Well, enjoy the fic!

Typical world meeting. All the nations would argue over some idiotic topic. America would steal the spotlight and then piss off England. France would insult the two of them, creating a trio of bickering blonde bastards. The other nations would be oblivious and not care, and the ones that DID care would be too polite to speak up.

This specific discussion was very similar to the other conferences, with the exception that this topic was quite serious: The oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

'What the HELL, America!' The meeting had just begun and England was already bickering with America. A trio of men stood at the front of the room: America, England, and France.

'What were you zinking, drilling for oil en ze ocean?' For once, France had agreed with Britain. If those two were in an argument and a third person entered they would always team up, and this was no exception. The Brit's arms were crossed in front of him, subconsciously afraid for his 'little brother.' France just put his hands on his waist striking a dominant stance.

'But you guys do it all the time!' America whined back, munching on some chips. 'Do know how much oil is in the ocean? A lot!' He needed to be the hero, not the victim. Who came to help the hero when he was attacked?

'Oui, but we take PRECAUTIONS so shit like zis doesn't 'appen!' France had a quick reply that easily negated America's. When France was not drunk on wine he was very focused and could get work done quickly.

But America would never back down. 'Don't blame me! Bl-'

'Blame who?' Interrupted Britain. 'Who else could have possibly be responsible for one of the world's worst oil spills that happened on YOUR BLOODY LAND?'

'Hey! Es an ocean, and es MINE, not America's!' piped up Mexico. He chose the wrong moment to do so.

'NO ONE WAS TALKING TO YOU MEXICO,' The Brit turned to face the darker-skinned man. His eyes were filled with rage. 'SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP YOU WANKER.' Britain exploded. All of the pent-up rage brewed during the debate was wasted on someone not even in the discussion. Strange, since it WAS Mexico's land as well as America's...

Spain put his arm around the shoulder of the hurt country. 'Él está mal porque su novio hizo cosa estúpida.' Spain glanced back at the bickering blondes. 'Cosa MUY estúpida este momento.' The other Latin smiled at that comment. While Spain explained the situation via Español to Mexico, America flipped out at the nations against him.

'BLAME FUCKING BP! It's all their fault! Not mine, not by one bit.' He blew up at them, no longer caring to be the hero. He just wanted to be heard. Slamming his chips on the table he continued. 'They just pick any fuckin' random spot with oil and drill without realizing what they're doing! They're all like, "Oh well WE never had a spill before so it can't happen to us" but what they don't realize is that THEY. CAN. HAVE. A. FUCKING. OIL. SPILL!' He exaggerated the last few words, wildly flailing his arms trying to prove a point no one seemed to understand. America quickly sat down, nomming his chips furiously.

France wasn't buying it. 'Well why ze 'ell did YOU let zem drill in ze first place?' He pointed at the defendant with a rose he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. 'And why did you not clean up zat spill properly? You are making England look like an unfit guardian!' The last sentence was harshly whispered loudly behind a hand failing to block those words. causing a few of the behaving countries that politely sat at the table to chuckle.

Then hell broke loose.

'Why you filthy little prick! How dare you insult my upbringing of America.'

'Ahonhonhon!'

'Get back here! Take that, Britania Rose!'

'MIS FLORES!'

'España, I thought you were done making flores to pay off your debt.'

'Become von vith Russia, da?'

'No thank you, aru.'

'I vill become von vith you, bratom!'

'GET AVAY FRO- Ooh, vodka!'

'Vodka was crea-'

'NO IT WAS NOT MADE IN SOUTH KOREA, ARU.'

'Aniki, everything originated in Korea, da-ze!'

'Sve, vhat is going on? I'm scared!'

'...'T's 'kay. I 'onno either...'

'Bróður, zis conference is so stressful. My blood pressure goes higher and Ejyafjallajökull vill erupt again...'

'Haha, ja I bet your folcano vill explode!'

'Shut up. Do not tease mitt små bror like that.'

'Liet! Look at this awesome skirt I just bought! It's like, totally pink.'

Things were getting was out of hand. England and France were chasing each other about the room like little kids at a playground, only with murderous intent. Spain was trying to comfort Mexico who is apparently a wimp of some sort while simultaneously collecting the artificial roses he had made to pay off his debt to some powerful country. Russia who had been patiently holding his tongue was hitting on China when Belarus showed up along with a mysterious bottle of vodka that Korea claimed to have invented. Finland was complaining to Sweden. Iceland was speaking with his brother about the volcanic eruption near his house while Denmark was making lewd remarks. And for some reason Poland was wearing a skirt...

Then he spoke up.

'Yo! Eferyone shut up!' Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to face the most awesome nation in the world: Prussia. 'Canada here has ein guten idea to solfe zis oil spill problem.' Everyone's face save for few was confused by that statement. Who the hell was this 'Canada' guy? The ex-nation gestured to the man he was sitting next to.

Canada stood up clutching his bear nervously. Everyone's attention was on him. 'Eh, h-hello I'm C-C-Canada... I thought of a good way to fix this Gulf spill, eh.'

Everyone's face was in shock for two reasons: 1) They never knew who this Canada guy was, and 2) Some one actually had a legitimate plan to solve the oil spill.

'Why don't we just, eh, ignore it?' His face was burning red with the spotlight focused on him. Poor Canada was terribly embarrassed. He started to ramble and mumble about his plan. 'I mean, you're all good at ignoring me, the world's second largest country... So, ignoring a big oil spill shouldn't be a problem... Eh?'

Then his loud-mouthed brother broke the ice. 'Hey Canadia, that's a great idea!' America's eyes were wide with excitement. 'We'll just put other unimportant stuff in the news! Normal humans are so stupid they'll forget about this whole incident in no time!'

England took it from there. 'Everyone, call Mr. Newspaper and tell him about anything that is NOT the oil spill.'

The meeting went on smoothly to some extent from then on.

Except for one thing.

'Were did Russia go, aru?' A long-haired Asian spoke while cuddling a panda. 'I do not see Belarus either, aru.'

'I saw him drinking vodka when he passed out and then Belarus carried him out.' One of the Baltics, Lithuania reported.

'Huh. Well, I am shua he will show up in a while, aru.' China and Lithuania shrugged then continued to call their respective Mr. Newspapers.