Author's Note: Hey there! This is just a cracky idea I had. My exams for school start tomorrow and instead of getting sleep to prepare like any person with common sense would do, I've decided to write this to hopefully get America to raise my spirits and the spirits of any of you who might be nervous about something or needs cheering up. This is however, only an attempt. So hopefully it will help me or you or all of us or…on with the story!

-Disclaimer- Hetalia isn't mine.

-And people thought I was a bad drunk.-

America, though underage in his own country, had managed to get thoroughly, entirely, and absolutely DRUNK. How? Oh, let's just say though I may have failed terribly to get him in this state the last time we went out drinking together-

"YOU DON'T KNOW ME! I'M THE BLOODY UNITED KINGDOM AND I CAN HOLD MY LIQUOR BETTER THAN YOU ANY DAY!"

Erm…well anyways, I finally managed to intoxicate the bloody oaf. Why? That's classified information. If I were to tell you you…well, I'd have to kill you. Now, I don't know if you've noticed, but a lot of people seem to think that I'm a bad drunk. I will have you know that America is one-thousand times worse. 'What is it that he does that is oh so outlandish?' You may ask. I'm about to offer you a completely accurate recollection of that night, and it won't cost you one pound.

America doesn't turn very sad and spill out his problems to people when he's drunk. He doesn't tell everyone the truth about what he thinks of them. He doesn't get delusional and tries to force himself sexually onto anything and anyone that moves. He doesn't suddenly become angry and wanting to pick fights. No, instead of being one of those kinds of drunk, he settles for being the type of drunk that can't help but start a whole Confidence Conference! Here, let me give you the bloody scene and you might get me a little better.

-"I don't understand." slurred a befuddled America. "You don't understand what?" England asked, hardly listening and smiling slightly to himself. His plan was working so far. "I don't get why everyone is so…so…so…" The younger country paused to search for the words in his head. "Get on with it, then. 'so' what?" England said, pushing him to finish his statement. "So…oblivious." America took another sip of his beer. The older nation's jaw dropped. "I can't believe you just called the other nations oblivious. I mean, just look at you!" America set down his glass and stared at England straight in the eyes for some time. He then turned his attention to the counter and started to scratch the edging of it with his fingernails, but continued on with his point. "Well, they all worry and fret over little things that happen. I did too but I've just realized something."

"And what would that be?" England asked. America stood from the stool abruptly and walked over to a table that sat a few feet from the bar. He stepped on top of it. "What on Earth are you doing?" The Briton yelled, running over to the place that America had chosen to be his makeshift soapbox. "ATTENTION, EVERYONE." The drunken nation raised his voice over the somewhat peaceful atmosphere. "I WOULD JUST LIKE YOU ALL TO KNOW-" He glanced around the room, not realizing the amount of shock on England's face. He proceeded. "THAT THE WORLD IS YOUR BITCH. NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND."

"Oh god" The English man backed away slowly to the other side of the room, hiding the fact that he knew the guy who was currently standing on the table. "YOU ARE A VACCUM, AND EVERYTHING IN YOUR WAY IS A SPECK OF DUST THAT GETS DEMOLISHED JUST BEING IN YOUR VERY PRESENCE! IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT OTHER PEOPLE SAY, YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT AND YOU KNOW EXACTLY HOW TO GET IT! YOUR GOAL IS SET IN MIND AND YOU'RE ALREADY ON THE PATH. NOW START JOGGING! YOU MAY FALL DOWN TEN TIMES BUT YOU'LL GET UP ELEVEN." America just got louder and more confident as he went. In fact, many of the people at the bar were gathering around to listen to him. "YOU ARE AFRAID TO GO FOR SOMETHING JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE SCARED OF REJECTION. WELL GUESS WHAT? REJECTION IS FUEL FOR YOUR MOTIVATION. REJECTION IS ICING ON YOUR CAKE. REJECTION MAKES SUCCESS TASTE THAT MUCH SWEETER." His voice boomed. Prussia, who had been present and listening the whole time stood up. "I PUT THAT SHIT ON EVERYTHING!" The man put up his hand, which America leaned down and high-fived.

This motivational speech went on for another five minutes and America hopped off the table. The tavern was filled with cheers and hollers. He walked over to England and smiled at him. "That was jolly good." England tried to hold back his laugh. "I know, right!" America held up his hand for a fist bump, which England promptly ignored. The rest of the alehouse calmed and America went back to rambling idly to the older nation. For awhile anyways.

I told you, right? It was actually quite enjoyable to see him like that though. It made for a good laugh, I suppose. But honestly, get ready for part two of his drunken ridiculousness. He starts yelling at people for not being grateful for how 'awesome' the world is and all. It makes sense, but it causes a massive scene.

"Aw, man. My phone Is taking forever." The bartender said. America seemed to have overheard. He stood up and faced the man, causing England to once again, shield his lovely face of embarrassment. "Would you give it a second? It's going TO SPACE. Would you give a second to get back from freaking SPACE?" America said, staring at the man like he was insane. Then, as if on cue, another man walked in through the entrance, causing the tiny bells that were attached to the door to chime. He glanced around, locating his friend and sat down with him. Then, he began a rather loud conversation on how terrible airplane service is.

"They made us wait on the runway for a full forty minutes." The man scoffed. America turned himself to the two men and stared at them. The man looked up. "What's your problem?" he asked, irritated with the fact that America had firmly fixated his eyes on them. "What happened next, huh? Didn't you fly through the air, incredibly? Like a bird, did you partake in the miracle of human flight? Not contributing zero? DUDE! YOU WERE FLYING. IT'S AMAZING. Everybody on every plane should just be constantly going 'OH MY GOD! WOW' You're flying. You are sitting in a chair, in the sky." He pointed upwards. "I mean, that's a pretty big deal!" he said without a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

But anyways, I was only meaning to tell you all about this because I assumed that some of his fan-girlswould want to know what drunk America was like. Well then, that's him. That's what the bloody fool is like. So, stop ridiculing me for being a horrid drunk.

Note: There were so many references in there I can't even…Oh, and America's speech was sadly not written by me, I got it from a youtube video. (If you want the link, PM me.)