This... is just a random creation born out of an absolutely hilarious thought which occured to be whilst reading one of those fics where England got all depressed, wrote a suicide note and attempted suicide only to be stopped by the other nations and whatnot. I nearly choked in an attempt to restrain my laughter.

Is it crack? - Well... I'll let you be the judge of that.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but overactive imagination.

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The Note

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England hadn't showed up for the World Meeting.

While not the first time in world history, America - known as Alfred Jones to some - did know that it wasn't an everyday occurrence for his old mentor to be a no-show - not just late but a no-show - missing all of America's magnificent speeches about how he, the Hero, would save the world (obviously) from the economic crisis he had (obviously) so not been responsible for this time around. If America himself would have his say, he wasn't responsible for the previous one either, he just did what a hero would do and took the blame for it as every other nation at that moment had been looking for a scapegoat to slaughter and roast over an open fire, although as the American was virtually unable to read the atmosphere he simply hadn't caught on to that little detail.

Still, with only Germany and France to engage in verbal scuffles with America was feeling admittedly bored on that day and a little peeved as well that England had seen it fit not to show up and listen to his latest plan to save the world from an economic recession, which was likely the reason as to why America had decided on going to England's house with the intent on finding the frumpy tea drinker and annoy him as a revenge for not showing up, by poking fun at his nonexistent cooking skills and imaginary friends. And, as he added in afterthought, if it turned out that England's absence had been due to a cold or something then America would obviously, as the hero, appear in his deepest moment of peril and save him, nursing him back to health and earning himself a reluctant thank you from the old empire. After all, since last time England was down with a cold, America had actually googled it so he nowadays considered himself as somewhat of an expert when it came to colds and methods of treating them.

Hence, America made his way to the other nation's house, actually remembering to ring the doorbell this time. As he received no answer he blatantly assumed that the doorbell was broken and knocked instead and as he received no response then he concluded that England simply hadn't heard him, so he tried the door handle, finding - to his surprise - that the door was unlocked.

Sticking his head in, he surveyed the interior, discarding his usual loud and overly enthusiastic greeting in favour of a more hesitant one. As he received no response then either he opened the door fully, letting himself in and closing it behind himself. He looked around for any signs of the other nation, who if he had been home and awake would've been - should've been - upon him by then, berating him for entering without permission and whatnot, yet England was nowhere in sight and in the old house that was his home lingered an eerie silence.

America frowned openly at this, feeling rather uneasy then as he slowly made his way inside, peeking into the rooms he went past, his eyes searching them. Making his way upstairs, he first checked the bedroom to check if the older nation was asleep and therefore hadn't heard him, but that room turned out to be empty as well, even though the tangled sheets were a telltale sign that they had been slept in recently. Feeling rather like a detective or criminal investigator from all of those crime shows he'd been watching, America made his way towards the room he knew to be England's study, halfway tempted to pull out his trusted gun and act like a real member of either FBI or CIA, for his own amusement obviously and for the sake of startling his old mentor as an added bonus. Because obviously, America would definitely risk a verbal and possibly physical beating as long as he would be able to see England's face in such a state.

Doing exactly what he had planned, he jumped into the doorway, gun pointed against the place he knew England had his desk and was once again tempted to shout "Freeze!" just for the added effect when his voice died in his throat at the sight of an open window, letting in a breeze which sent many of the abandoned papers on the desk onto the floor in a great mess.

England wasn't there.

A cup of tea stood on the desk, still halfway full but cold when he took off his gloves to touch it, and beneath it he noticed a paper which looked rather out of place in-between all the official and likely very important that England, ENGLAND, appeared to have left to fend for itself. He lifted the teacup away from the paper before bringing it closer to his eyes with the intention of reading it.

The note was written in a neat and tidy fashion which America clearly recognized as England's, when said nation wasn't feeling irritated at least, and it was the kind of script that America found it excruciatingly hard to read but for the sake of the world, because he was a hero, he still did it.

"Greetings, I suppose," he read, his eyebrows climbing higher for each word. "I, Arthur Kirkland, also known as England... or the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland or whatever, hereby relay... my Will..."

His breath caught in his throat and he was caught by a sudden sense of urgency as he pulled out his cell phone, speed dialling several numbers.

"Emergency World Meeting!" he shouted into the phone. "Everybody get over to England's house right now!"

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Soon afterwards a number of nations had assembled in England's living room, crowding it to a great extent all while several of them - those that didn't get that well along with each other - bickered and complained rather loudly at having to see the other nation's face so soon after an actual meeting.

America silenced them almost immediately though, not with his usually loud and really cool greeting but with complete silence along with an almost grim facial expression that few nations had seen since the days of World War II.

"So, what's the emergency, Amérique?" France inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

America replied simply by handing him the note. The Frenchman took it, looked at it and frowned deeply before passing it off to his left. "Matthieu, will you be so kind?"

One moment later, Canada faded into existence in the spot next to France, startling several nations on the way, as he received the note. The normally rather shy nation looked at the paper before clearing his throat, starting to read it out loud. "Greetings, I suppose," he read. "I, Arthur Kirkland, also known as England or the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland or whatever, hereby relay my Will to whichever poor tosser happens to be reading this note written by me, being in sound body and mind of course..."

An extreme silence settled in the room but was soon enough broken by several exclaims of disbelief. "Will?" somebody shouted. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

Canada didn't respond; he merely continued reading upon which people settled down again although they were certainly paying a lot more attention to him then, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Anyways, I can pretty safely say that I didn't get that well along with any of you other nations and thinking about it now I believe that most of it was probably my fault in one way or another, hence I do suppose that at least some of you people have at least some kind of reason for hating my guts," Canada read, pausing slightly before continuing, "Yeah, I'm talking about you Scotland, Wales and Ireland; of all of the people I've ever wronged I do believe that I've wronged you the most, although you have to admit that you asked for it on more than one occasion..."

"The Hell we did," Ireland retorted, as he was the only one of them that was present.

"Now..." Canada continued reading, seemingly unaffected. "As compensation you can have my share of land and if you feel like it, split it fairly amongst yourselves or do whatever suits your tastes as long as you do not, and I repeat, do not let my people feel the brunt of whatever grudges you may have been nursing against me."

Ireland merely quirked an eyebrow before reaching into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and dialling a number, holding the phone against his ear while waiting for somebody to pick up at the other end while Canada had apparently decided to have a pause in reading in favour of looking at whatever his fellow nation was up to. Someone picked up on the other end and Ireland spoke up.

"Hey, Scotland?" he said. "I've got some good news and some bad news. In what order would you prefer them to be delivered?"

"Good news first," was the noncommittal reply from the other end.

"Well..." Ireland seemed to be searching for the right words but had troubles finding them. "The good news is that you, me and Wales will be able to split England equally between us, although as for me I'm satisfied as long as I get Northern Ireland back, so you and Wales can just decide what to do with the rest yourselves..."

"...Okay?" Scotland finally replied. "And the bad news?"

"England's missing and he left us a Will, so it's probable that he committed suicide or something," Ireland neutrally stated.

Scotland remained silent for a couple of moments before speaking up again, "No really, what's the bad news?"

"England's likely committed suicide," Ireland repeated, silently suspecting that Scotland was drunk.

"And that qualifies as bad news, how?" Scotland asked, honestly curious.

"Ugh... forget it," Ireland finally sighed. "I'm hanging up now so do me a favour and give Wales the news."

"Will do."

Putting his phone away Ireland looked up, finally noticing the fact that he had quite an audience. "Oh? I held you up, didn't I?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "Do continue."

Canada looked down at the note again and started reading out loud again.

"Next I would like to apologize to all those sorry little colonies that have ever been misfortunate enough to be a part of the British Empire; Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Hong Kong and India especially," he read, barely choking back a sob at the fact that England had actually remembered his name for once, all while his brother Alfred muttered something along the lines of "what about me?" before Canada continued, "America? Not so much to be completely honest; you were an ungrateful brat to begin with and besides, I believe that having this old tosser off your back should be way more than you deserve but alas, I have made my decision and I stand by it..."

America opened his mouth to protest but was forcibly shut up by Australia who'd put a hand over his mouth, hissing that he wanted to hear the rest.

"As for you other old colonies of mine that have gone by unmentioned I don't really care what you do," Canada read. "Go throw a party for all that I care and celebrate my departure from this world if that's your thing. Also, if you do, make sure to invite my former protectorates as well; I do believe that they'd like to celebrate this event almost as much as you would."

"Damn straight we do," came the reply from one of said former protectorates, which was followed by a murmur of agreement from a couple of others.

"Next I would like to apologize to my allies, current and former ones, for my conduct during the wars and persistence in proclaiming neutrality once I've beat up France," Canada read, casting a glance at the nation in question before once again returning his attention to the note in his hand. "And no France, I'm not apologizing for that; I don't regret it at all actually. Though I must admit that you did do your part in raising me and all that, but really you wino, do the world a favour and go and choke on something..."

"No will do, Angleterre," said nation muttered.

"Next I would like to apologize to my enemies, old ones and new, especially Spain for my conduct during my pirating days as Captain Kirkland, although other than that I really think that you should take your conquistador arse and shove it. Seriously."

Spain merely quirked an eyebrow at this.

"Ugh, I'm sick of apologizing," Canada read.

"Well, England apologizing for anything at all should be seen as a sign of the apocalypse don't you think?" someone said while others murmured in agreement.

"Next I'm going to ask America to learn how to spell properly and stop butchering my language. Seriously," Canada read while America protested. "Next I'm going to tell Sealand that no, you're not a nation and I won't acknowledge you. Hah! But on second thought, sure why not? So, Peter Kirkland, I hereby acknowledge you as micronation. So just go ahead and have fun with that, Principality of Sealand."

"Speaking of which, where is Sealand anyway?" Ireland asked.

"He's probably with Tino and Berwald," Estonia replied. "Finland and Sweden... Speaking of which, has anybody noticed that none of the Nordics are here?"

"Nobody cares," Netherlands grunted.

"Anyways, now that I have that part done I suppose I'll be able to address the real issue here so to say..." Canada read, his eyebrows climbing as he continued, "Now, contrary to whatever you people may have surmised, this is not a suicide note; this is a "I've-been-feeling-rather-unappreciated-these-days -and-honestly-can't-take-anymore-crap-from-you-peo ple-regarding-my-supposed-delusions-so-I'm-off-on- permanent-vacation-in-the-magical-country-I-found- in-my-closet-the-other-day" kind of note, and by the time somebody has stumbled upon it I'll already be gone. Now, due to the fact that none of you as far as I'm aware share my so called "delusions" I seriously doubt that you'll be able to find me, so do both me and yourself a favour and don't come looking for me; I'm positive that you'll be able to get by without me anyway. So, so long you tossers! I won't be seeing you around. Sincerely, Arthur Kirkland / England / UK / An extraordinary but greatly misunderstood gentleman."

The nations present in the room sat in stunned silence before America finally opened his mouth, putting what everybody else was thinking into words.

"What the fuck?"

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