THE TIME WAS WORLD WAR I

"We're cooked!" Canada cried out in his typical, unnoticeable whisper. No one heard him over the explosions going on around him in the trenches.

France ducked down Canada's left. "Sacre-bleu! Who will save us?"

"I will, you foppish twit!"

The troops in the trenches looked into the dazzling sunlight above them. There, there was a huge machine, with all terrain-mobility covered in a strong, protective armor. France shivered with pleasure.

"This appears to be a proper entry-level position," England looked at the ploughs through the dirt to determine the best way to enter. He smirked at the Germans.

"Get ready to eat this, boys… !"

England and France penetrated German territory that day. They reached a totally of six miles before having to pull out. Unfortunately, the tank didn't do much to keep this Battle of Somme from being exceptionally bloody and altogether pretty rotten. On the bright side of tons of people dying, England learned many new techniques with his new weapon. He worked at fully developing the tank long and hard. Its great possibilities swelled until other nations began to want in on the action.

Germany began to experiment with tanks for the first time when he saw England was doing it. The first tank-on-tank action happened on the 28th of April in 1918 at Villers-Bretonneux, France, where England held out the longest.

"Was für ein Haufen Scheiße!" Germany cursed at his A7Vs as they were plowed over by England's only slightly less pathetic Mark IVs, "Iz zat really vut de seeds of our labor amount to? Ach!"

"How does that feel, you wanker? That's what you get for trying to top the absolutely invincible English gentleman!"

"Onhonhonhon! Bonsouir, my darlings! See here my wondrous, hard, and fast creation! It will surely put all of you sad leetle tanks to shame!"

England moaned. I mean, groaned. "Ugh, it's that giant douche bag. What is it now, you- you- you…"

England became rigid, unable to disguise how impressed he was by France's great mechanism. The girly-haired beard-face was seated erect upon a light tank a long gun sticking straight out, mounted on a turret with full rotation. The engine, uniquely, packed the trunk. Even Germany's interest in something made by France- who he despised- was aroused. England's lower jaw quivered, unable to speak, until he was able to part his lips and squeeze out one phrase for yet another jerk who stole his idea: "Yeah, well, mine's bigger."

A few years later, Germany was in his office, looking over information concerning a tank-warfare strategy. It had been conceived by an Englishman who had been ignored in his own country for his tank plans, but Germany had noticed their genius. He almost smiled at the thought of the new strategy. Almost.

A work-bitch came in his office.

"Um, Germany, sir, I have a package for you," The work-bitch pulled his package out of his pants. "It contains the design for the new tank you requested. The ones that will enable us to use this Blitzkrieg-technique most effectively."

Germany took the package in his hands and caressed it gently. He rubbed his hand all along it, pumping its corners furiously. He licked it-

"S-sir? What are you-?"

"Er, nothing. Dismissed."

The moment the work-bitch was out the door, Germany tore the box open and gazed longingly at its contents. Gently, like a lover, he lifted out a detailed drawing of the design.

"This is it… The Panzer Tank."