DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia, tornadoes, Lollidictator's manuals, or the Jehovah's Witnesses. And no, I don't hate them either. I just wish they'd stop stopping by while I'm in a nightgown.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Mmmph..." I made a noise into my couch-pillow and blinked my brown eyes sleepily. First of all, why was anyone knocking at my house at, oh, eight in the morning on a Sunday? Anyone I knew who could drive to my house was either suffering a hangover, sleeping, or prepping for church. (Hopefully it was only the adults who were hung over.) And second of all, why was I on the couch? Meh, it was comfy.
Knock, knock, knock. Whoever it was really wanted me to answer the door. Of course, mind you my longish blonde hair was in a mess (think a cross between Einstein and crazy cat lady) and I was in my pumpkin pie pajamas (which consisted of an orange t-shirt with a pi symbol and dark green sweatpants with POCKETS. It was part of a Halloween costume of mine last year) so I obviously did not look nice enough to answer the door.
Still, that repeated knocking was getting annoying (and louder). It was probably a Jehovah's Witness or some crap like that. So, I rolled off the couch, adjusted my hair a bit, and put in a scowl as I went to open the door.
"Excuse me miss, but would you-" Nope. Not even gonna listen to you people today. I shut the door in the guy's face, then paused for a second. Did he have a uniform on? That was mint green? Oh, crapples. I opened the door again and actually got a good look at the guy on my front porch.
"Um, ma'am? Y-you're supposed to sign this..." The guy whom I had mistaken as a Jehovah's Witness actually appeared to be with Flying Mint Bunny Corp. Two boxes -large, wooden boxes- were on the porch next to him. The poor guy, who definitely wasn't much older than my 16 years, looked super frickin' nervous. Prolly his first day on the job.
So, since my brain clearly wasn't working, I signed the papers and blinked sleepily. "Oh, and ma'am-"
"Miss." God, I hate being called ma'am.
"Miss," he said, still trembling, "I'm, uh, supposed to give you these." He handed me two books. "You'll want to look these over before engaging the units. Where do you want these?"
"Living room."
The guy wheeled the crates into my living room and bid me good day. As the giant bunny van drove down my driveway, I took a look at one of the thick books.
ARTHUR KIRKLAND: User Guide and Manual. Oh thank god, a sane one. Of course, my relief was short-lived, because of what the other book had on its cover.
FRANCIS BONNEFOIS: User Guide and Manual.
Well, shit. My brain was so not ready to comprehend all of this at eight in the morning without food. Or coffee. Or even fully dressed. So, on that note, I sent the manuals on the coffee table and went upstairs to my room to get changed, leaving the crates to themselves.
I brushed my hair and teeth and decided to get changed into what my mom likes to call "swim meet clothes", or basically lounge clothes. I took off my pajamas and changed into my comfiest pair of dark-wash jeans and a t-shirt with portals on the front and back. Ah, memories.
The shirt reminded me of my mom and stepdad, who were currently in New Mexico for their anniversary and wouldn't be back until the following Sunday. Thank god I was already out for summer break, or the units downstairs would be even more of a problem. As it was, I had to figure out a way to explain to my parents how exactly two grown men ended up at our house. I was pretty sure my mom would be okay with it, as long as I explained and didn't lie (she's pretty damn awesome, and an anime/geek as well, just more hardcore than me) but my stepdad would have an F5 tornado level fit. It would be like May 3rd* all over again.
Speaking of May 3rd, if I didn't get back down to open the boxes correctly the two units would promptly trash my house and drink all of my parent's liquor. Which would get me killed when the parents came home. On that happy thought, I ran back out of my room -mindful to shut the door- and tromped down the stairs to the living room.
"Okay, Lizzy, deep breaths, deep breaths. In, out. In, out," I told myself, plopping down on the couch and following my instructions. I was much more awake than when I signed for the units, even though it had only been ten minutes since then. I was on the verge of having a fan-gasm, which was very unlike me. Now, if my mom was here, she'd flip smooth out and start running around the yard in circles screaming in joy. I'm much calmer than that, but no one really knows what they'd do in a situation like this.
After calming myself down a bit, I grabbed the manuals off of the table and cracked both of them open to the part where it says how to wake the units. After scanning through the passages (and becoming a little grossed out at one of France's options) I realized there was only one thing to do- make French food.
Mind you, this would require me to be able to cook French food. Also, doing so would wake up both units at once, and I wasn't sure I wanted that. Especially if Arthur was a pirate. (Which, while super cool, would be very bad for me. And the house.) Now was a time in which I really, really wish my mom had let me take French.
Strangely enough, during this moment of inner turmoil, the Flying Mint Bunny van drove back up my driveway. Huh. Well, at least he's better than the Jehovah's Witness people.
I preemptively opened the door and waited for the delivery guy to scramble to my porch. "Ah, miss! I'm terribly sorry, but there's been a mistake. It's my first day on the job, see, and I accidentally gave you an extra unit!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Which one's the extra?"
He paused for a moment and pulled a little booklet out of his pocket. "Hold on a moment... Elizabeth Misty Kirby, right?"
"Yes," I sighed. "Please tell me the extra is the frog."
He flipped to the K's section of the booklet before answering. "Here you are! Yeah, the Bonnefois unit is supposed to go to a different household, unless you've already woken him up?"
"Actually, no. Please take the crate. I'm sure some other fangirl is much more deserving than I of that French pervo." I opened the door and the delivery guy carted the crate with France in it back to his van.
"Again, I am so sorry about the mix-up," he apologized afterwards. "Your test scores were exceptionally high, so I thought you would have gotten two units, but-"
"Hold on a sec. Test scores?" The heck was he talking about?
"Ah, well, you see, we've recently come up with a new batch of prototype units, and the higher-ups wanted to send some to the teenage populace to see how they acted. The units, not the kids." The delivery guy kept babbling nervously, and I was beginning to wonder if maybe a Jehovah's Witness would have been better. At least they had the sense to not sound like a complete idiot. "So, they had some people make up a test to see how well the junior high and highschool kids knew their history, and we sent it out to the state superintendents. Only a few kids in each state were chosen to get a unit, so you should feel really lucky." Lucky? That was a laugh.
"Well, anyways, miss Elizabeth, I'll need the manual back for the Bonnefois unit." I unceremoniously handed the guy the manual and he smiled at me. "Thank you, and I hope you enjoy your new unit!" He got into the mint green van and drove back down the driveway.
"And I hope you get fired for being an idiot," I muttered as I went back inside. At least I wouldn't have to deal with both France and Britain at the same time. I wasn't stupid, though. I loved Hetalia and had lots of fan fictions on story alert and favorite. So I knew how these unit stories went. Young, parentless rich girl mysteriously gets units and hilarity and smexy time ensued. Well, this time was going to be different. This girl had parents! And was middle class. And lived in Oklahoma. Yeaaahh... this was going to be fun. AKA my life -and summer, can't forget that- was officially over.
*Notes:
May 3rd: Violent series of tornadoes that ran through Oklahoma City in 1999 between May third and May sixth. The biggest was an F5 which caused over a billion dollars in damage, which is the one I'm talking about here.
AN:
So, this is my attempt at a unit fic. I may or may not continue this, so I'd like to see what the nice people of Fanfiction think of it before I upload another chapter. I love and adore praise, and happily accept constructive criticism. Pointless flames, on the other hand... If you're going to yell at me, give me a reason. Kudos and fruit punch to anyone who points out grammatical errors. Thanks! Oh, and please review!
