Disclaimer: This would be a strip if I owned Hetalia, haven't we established that?
Snødynking
Me: Germany's coming your way. Probably trying to figure out what in the name of Thor Italy was whining about.
Annoying brother: Thank you for your help, little brother ^^
Me: You would do this to me if I refused. It was sadly in my best interests.
Annoying brother: I would not have done it to you.
Me: Yeah, right. Who else would you do it to?
Annoying brother: I've done it to that stupid dane at least three times.
Me: He deserves it because he never learns, even though you do this EVERY YEAR.
Annoying brother: That is his problem.
Annoying brother: How long until he gets to me?
Germany eyed Iceland warily. "What are you doing?"
Iceland jumped, almost dropping his phone. "Texting the annoying personification of Norway," he said after regaining his composure.
"Why aren't you in the meeting?" Germany asked in suspicion.
Iceland just deadpanned a look at him. "We're still waiting for America and a bunch of other pathetic nations that don't know how to deal with the snow to get here. Considering how we've been waiting for three hours I'm wondering why we're still here."
"We have to get things accomplished."
"Get what accomplished? All that happens is England and France or Greece and Turkey or whoever else you want to say gets into a fight and it escalates from there. I still don't know why I bother to come. Oh wait, Denmark annoys Norway enough that he agrees to go to shut him up and he makes me go because he apparently actually believes that misery needs company."
Germany blinked, surprised at the outburst. Iceland seemed to realize that, because he just leaned back against the wall and said with an annoyed look on his face, "Just leave me alone."
He decided to walk out the door and leave him alone. He had heard enough tales from Denmark and Sweden to not want to be around an annoyed Iceland.
The moment the blond walked outside the door, he tensed, eyes darting around. Granted, he hadn't completely believed Italy when he said he had been blinded by snowballs and had kind of only gone out to shut him up, but now his instincts were screaming for him to leave the warzone immediately.
He took a cautious step forward, and several more steps after that. When he had gotten to the other side of the building, he finally relaxed and sighed in relief, thinking that it had just been Italy panicking as usual.
That was probably one of the worst mistakes of his sort of immortal life.
Germany never saw the snowballs coming. One second, he was standing up straight, looking at the admittedly beautiful snow-covered grounds, and the next he was collapsed under the weight of about a million snowballs.
Gott in himmel, what is this hell?!
He tried to crawl away, but the snowballs just kept coming. If he was able to form any sort of thought, he would've both question how they were able to throw with such accuracy and taken a leaf from Italy's book and waved a white flag.
Finally, the force of the throws were too much and Germany finally collapsed from the pain. But that wasn't the end of the hell that he had walked into. No, he heard footsteps rush towards him, and forcibly turn him over.
The look he saw on Norway's face would be the source of his nightmares for the next decade at least.
Norway didn't waste any time. Germany wouldn't ever be able to recount what had happened exactly. He remembered getting snow forced into his shirt and pants, his hat getting torn off his head only to be forced back on with snow inside it, and his shoes getting ripped off his feet before being practically buried in snow.
As he laid there, shivering from what might be a very early sign of hypothermia, he heard Norway say, "I have to admit, you lasted longer than I had expected. You have a miniscule drop of respect from me for that. I hope to see you again like this next year when I go snødynking again."
Germany just stared at the sky, swearing to whatever god existed that he would never underestimate Norway ever again.
That nation was crazier than anyone knew.
Quoting a Norwegian friend that told me about this: Snødynking is when people, especially kids, gang up on someone, most likely a friend or an older person like a teacher, and throw snow on them, hold them down and put snow on their clothes, bury their shoes and fill their winter cap with snow. In the end, that person will be almost completely covered with snow and the kids will leave them alone.
Yes, they apparently do this enough that there's an actual word for it.
If you want to see an actual account of this phenomenon, go look up "Welcome to Norway, puny American soldier".
Seriously, don't mess with Norway, Hetalia or real life. You won't like the result.