England entered the supermarket, grumbling as the automatic doors slid open. "How the bloody hell did I run out of tea? I was sure I had another box left!" He read the signs until he found the one he was looking for: Aisle 12; Tea. England could practically taste the warm Earl Gray he had missed out that morning, leaving him even more irritable than usual (if that was possible). He strolled briskly into the aisle, snatching an armful of boxes, before a familiar voice made him drop them all.

"Mon dieu, zis iz quality wine! I never knew this store 'ad taste!" England's green eyes flicked up to the sign hanging above the next aisle over: French Wine.

French Wine.

French Wine.

I'm going to kill that wanker.

"FRANCE! What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled, sliding into the bread aisle and almost tripping over a tea box. France turned, his expression reading "Bitch, please." Or rather, "Chienne, s'il vous plait."

"I came 'ere to get wine, Angleterre. I 'ave run out, alzough I was sure I 'ad another bottle."

"I don't care why you're here, Frog!"

"But you just asked—"

"Shut the hell up! Why on earth is the English tea next to the French wine?" France looked up at the signs, his eye twitching. Then, he seized as many bottles as he could hold, and dashed to the other end of the store to get them as far away from England as possible. The Brit did the same with his beloved tea.

They continued this until there was one bottle of Delas Cotes du Ventoux and one box of Earl Gray left. They both sprinted, determined to reach theirs first, when two security guards seized them.

"Unhand me, you git! Can't you see this is important political business here?"

"Give it a rest, limey."

"What did you just say? Why, I have a mind to put a curse on you! A hex! A bewitchment! A seal you'll be forever branded by!"

"Oh, just shut up, Angleterre!" A swift kick in the vital regions silenced the Brit, and he shut his mouth, pale-faced.

…

It was bad judgment to put England and France in the same building. But horrible judgment was to put them in the same cell. They hadn't even spent a minute in there and the two were already at each other's throats, literally .

"So, are you going to post their bail or not?" The cop asked. America, laughing too hard to answer, merely shook his head.

"I'll bail 'em out on a couple hours," He finally said in between laughs. "This is way too fun to watch!"

…

Mon dieu – My god

Chienne, s'il vous plait – Bitch, please

Angleterre – England

Author's Note: I like the one I worte with Prussia in Rite-Aid way better. But this seemed decent, so I'll post it. And yes, America did steal England's tea and France's wine. He knew they would go to the same supermarket, because he's a…genius? *facedesks* Never mind. I just think he'd be a great prankster.

I hope you liked it!