Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Long time no see! This is just a silly little idea that's been in my head for quite a while now, and I recently had a bit of free time, so I figured I may as well put my thoughts to paper (or, in this case, keyboard), right? Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, no matter how much I wish I did.
Peace out,
~silentwolf111
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~ Prologue ~
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Once upon a time, twice upon a time, however many bloody times upon a time you want – there lived a boy.
All right, so he wasn't exactly a boy. Well, he was very much male and not at all female despite some of the teasing misconceptions of his peers – for the last and final time, just because one partakes in perfectly acceptable hobbies such as embroidery, that does not automatically make one's gender feminine – but the boy was different in that he was not human, so to say. He was a young nation, rather, who represented England of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland; but he didn't mind being called "Arthur" as well.
Just so long as he wasn't called "Artie", "Iggy", "Artie-Farty", "English Muffin", or anything and everything that had to do with "brows". Rest assured, any tosser who dared call him any of the aforementioned names would promptly receive a sound thrashing.
But that's beside the point. Now, unlike the other rambunctious nation-people, Arthur was a gentleman who was considered to be rather wise and level-headed; always with his nose in a book, he was very clever and observant, with a love for stories and a way with words that can only be considered poetic. The nation absolutely loved fairytales and folktales of all types, as he'd grown up with stories of the sort and had developed a true passion for them over time.
Because he experienced so much stupidity in his everyday life from the other nations that made him want to smack his head into a brick wall, Arthur wanted to find a way to release his frustration at the stupidity that surrounded him that did not involve throttling or maiming (no matter how much he would have loved to do so, such behavior was surely considered ungentlemanly and would have been frowned upon). So he chose to do with his experiences what he did with everything else in life: express them through the form of words.
That boy-nation is me. And, inspired by my own love for storytelling, I have decided to write a little book of fables inspired by things I have seen and learnt from the other nations around me. Especially the ones that tend to fall more on the "stupid" side of the line.
And, good God, there are a lot of them.
See, you might want to sit down for this, dear reader, for the sheer idiocy of some of the characters in this storybook can be too much to handle sometimes. Take it from me.
Well, I suppose, apart from the fact that I am in need of a fairly non-violent way to distract myself from the cluelessness of the bumbling gits that surround me, the very idiocy that these twats possess is part of the reason why I'm writing this book, anyway; hopefully the lessons you learn from these fables will be enough to put some hope back into the world.
So, my dear reader, I present to you my little collection of stories that is Arthur's Fables.
Now, let's not waste any more time, shall we?
Once upon a time, there lived a young, foolish lad named the United States of America, who proposed a silly challenge to the great nation of England.