Germany sat in his office with his nose behind a book, glad to finally have some time to himself. Training his allies was proving to be a more difficult task than he'd imagined. Italy was utterly useless on the battlefield, surrendering every time he'd get into any trouble. And Japan...well, Japan was just bored. He'd rather be at home looking at his naughty manga collection.

Just as Germany was about to turn the page of his book, he heard shouting. It was Italy and Romano having another one of their ridiculous fights. Sighing, Germany closed the book. He would never get any reading done with all of that shouting! Following the sound of their voices, he made his way to the kitchen to find the brother playing tug-of-war with a breadstick.

"It's-a mine!" Italy shouted, pulling the breadstick towards him.

"No, it's mine!" Romano countered, pulling it back.

Germany slammed his fist on to the counter, causing the brothers to scream in fear. "Vhat in ze hell is going on in here!?"

"Oooooh Germany! I'ma so glad you're here!" Italy said, jumping into his friend's arms. "I baked-a myself some-a delicious breadsticks and my big brother is trying to steal the last one!"

Germany threw Italy down on the ground. And Romano started slapping him with the breadstick. "Suck my balls, you lying bastard! I baked the breadsticks and you know it!"

They started screaming at each other again and Germany put his palm to his face. Who cares about a stupid breadstick? It's not like they couldn't make another batch of them; they did it all the time! Still, it was obvious that they weren't going to give the breadstick up without a fight.

But how was he supposed to get them to stop?

Germany put his hand under his chin, thinking. Then, he remembered a story his father used to tell him; one about a wise king who helped two women fighting about a similar situation.

"Okay, listen up." Germany ordered, snatching the breadstick from Romano's hand. "I know how ve are going to settle zis."

"How?" Romano asked, putting his hands on his hips. "Are you a-gonna hand my brother over to the Allies?"

"Oh no!" Italy screamed, attempting to run out of the room.

Germany grabbed the back of Italy's shirt and held him there. "No, I'm going to cut ze breadstick in half. Zat vay both of you vill have a piece of it."

"Nooooooo!" Italy cried, taking the breadstick from Germany. He began hugging it, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Don't tear it in half! Romano can have it, just please don't hurt-a my breadstick!"

"Whatever..." Romano said, waving his hand in the air dismissively. "Tear it in half, I don't care."

And with that, Germany made his decision. "I vill not cut the breadstick in half." He said, turning his attention towards Italy. "You obviously care more about ze breadstick, so it's yours. Now get out of here before I change mein mind!" Italy thanked his friend and skipped merrily out of the kitchen. Germany looked back at Romano, who's face was as red as an apple. "Und you...get out of here before I send YOU to ze Allies."

"Just try it, apple strudel!" Romano said as he was running out of the kitchen. "Hahahahaha! You will never catch-a me!"

Germany sighed and folded his arms in front of his chest. "I am surrounded by idiots...