Hetaria, Switzerland's POV~
Switzerland opened his eyes to a very strange situation. Strange indeed...
Why was he in a pink, frilly, dress with white tights and a fucking butterfly in his hair? He was not a girl, dammit! Hence the "he"s!
"Boo!"
Switzerland shrieked (manly) as he stumbled backwards, eyes watching the forest around him. There wasn't much in the forest, just a deer, rabbit, America holding a chainsaw, and...wait, what?
Switzerland's eyes quickly darted back to America, his heartbeat increasing, only to discover that "America" was in actuality a tree trunk. Switzerland tilted his head, stepping forward to observe the tree trunk. It was remarkably similar to America...how strange...
"Hey, didn't you, like, hear me?" Someone complained behind him, and Switzerland jumped, wrapping his legs and arms around the tree trunk like his life depended on it.
The stranger was laughing behind him, and Switzerland scowled, getting off the tree and dusting off his – stupid, idiotic, so not manly – dress. Poland was clutching his stomach, bending forward, his face beet red.
Switzerland pouted, "I hope you choke." Poland straightened up, wiping a tear away from his eyes.
"Your dress is totally cute! I'm so jealous! Like, where did you get it?" Poland chatted. Switzerland's eye ticked.
"I got it from nowhere. Poland, before I shoot you, where am I?" Switzerland growled. Poland smirked.
"You don't, like, have a gun. And you're in, like, Hetaria. Duh! Where have you been for the last fifty years?" Poland asked, putting his hands on his hips. Switzerland raised an eyebrow.
"Hetaria? I've never heard of it." Switzerland said, "And what do you mean by 'I have no gun'?"
Poland smiled sweetly, "Check yourself." Switzerland growled lowly and looked down at himself. There was no gun strapped to his legs, no rifle on his back, no weapon on anywhere. Just a dress, heels, and panties and bra.
Wait, what?
Switzerland paled, feeling his abs. No abs. Breasts. B-cup breasts. Good Lord, why was he feeling himself – herself? - in front of Poland?
"P-Pervert!" Switzerland cried, taking a few steps back. "I don't know what you did, I don't know how you did it, and I certainly don't know why you did it, nor do I want to, but I want you to redo it – whatever you did!"
Poland grinned madly, tilting his head. "Or you'll do what?"
Switzerland snarled, "I'll shoot you in the fucking vital regions."
Poland scoffed and put his hands up in mock surrender, "Oh no, like, I'm totally scared. O-M-G, don't, like, hurt me!" He smirked again and leaned forward, "...Miss."
Switzerland lunged forward only to meet the hard ground as Poland had moved out of the way. He lifted himself up, watching Poland as he skipped away. Just before Poland disappeared out of sight, he giggled and turned around.
"Oh, by the way, I didn't do anything! You're, like, on your own!" Poland laughed and vanished from Switzerland's sight.
Switzerland groaned and hit the ground in frustration before sitting down and glaring at the scenery around him. What should he do now?