In which Denmark 'decides' to see if he can stay in bed for a week straight. I know I'd like to.
Sort of featuring the Obnoxious Quartet, an invention of mine that consists of America, Prussia, Denmark, and SK.
Now, notes: Apologies for getting Sweden's voice wrong if I did, I'm making the gesture that all the Nordics+Sealand live in the same house, and I'm really not trying to portray fan-people as insane, obsessive maniacs. No offense to any of you fabulous souls. Enough spoilers, now onwards!
Contains a bit of language and tons of immaturity.
This was part of another thing that I decided sucks, so I'm taking the other thing apart to make nice one-shots for you all.
Review! :D
Playing truth or dare with the Obnoxious Quartet is a risky business, Denmark soon learned. It wasn't that he didn't know that already, it was just that he got the full implications of it now, when it was his turn again. "Truth or dare?" asked America, the flashlight he was holding to the bottom of his face illuminating his eyes in a way that would've been creepy if it were anyone else but America. Normally he would say truth - the last dare ended up getting SK shot at for dancing on Switzerland's lawn in a chicken suit - but he knew, just knew that America was going to ask about The Incident.
Denmark was irritated with himself for even screwing up that badly in the first place. Just because he'd gotten drunk was not a reason to go explain his nation-ness to the first pretty girl that wanted him laid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Plus, he was sure that the other three were planning to ask him the most awkward questions. Well, awkward he could deal with. Awkward he could handle.
If it wasn't for the girl that he'd mentioned this to finding out where he lived and stalking him. He huffed a sigh. Fans. They're everywhere. And, in fact, she still did want him laid. Getting her laid would be the ticket to her sealing her mouth and never peeping a word, internet or otherwise, to anyone else on where he lived, according to her, anyway. Last time a bunch of people had found out where he lived, he'd had to move his furniture and hide in Norway for a bit, where Norway was always frowning at his 'disruptive behavior'. It took a lot of pleading to Norway for Norway to go to England and ask the eyebrow-monster to erase the memory of the rabid fan-swarm, and he was not willing to debase himself that much just to avoid getting laid. At least she was a pretty one, anyway.
"Hello~" Prussia waved a hand in his face. "Awesome to Denmark~"
"Dare!" said Denmark, answering the old question, and the other three visibly slumped. "Dang it, I was going to ask if you were going to get her laid tonight." America pouted.
SK snapped his fingers. "I've got an idea! Excellent dares originated in me, da-ze!" He pulled the other two nations into a huddle while Denmark fidgeted. Please don't ask me to parachute off the Eiffel Tower. He wasn't in the mood for the Quartet's normal stupidity. He had a mistake to fix. Other wise he'd be brainstorming right up there with the rest of them.
"We have decided," announced SK formally, "that since you won't tell us about this girlllll~" -he drew out the word for an irritatingly long time - "you have to spend a week in bed. Da-ze." America and Prussia waited gleefully for his reaction.
The Dane closed his eyes and started counting to ten. When that failed, he took a long, calming swallow of beer. Then he opened his mouth. "SAY WHAAAAT? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MINDS?" He stayed in his angry pose for a moment longer before all four of them burst into laughter.
"Seriously, though," said Denmark, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, "can't I switch to truth?"
"Too late~" crowed Prussia maniacally. "The deal's gone and done! You shook my awesome hand"- Denmark didn't recall doing that, but whatever - "and all of us were here as witnesses! You've got to obey the rules of Truth or Dare, or else you're a cheater and we'll never do anything with you again. "
Denmark sighed and flopped onto his back. "Fine. You win. But once I'm done, all the drinks are on you three!"
This elicited simultaneous groans from the rest of the awesome Quartet, but it was a deal.
DAY ONE: Denmark was sitting up in the bed scowling furiously. It was past the middle of the night, and the attractive member of the female species had draped herself across him. She was asleep. He glared at the camera set up in the corner, and cursed Hungary for agreeing with Prussia [FOR ONCE] and setting it up. "I still hate you," he said to the darkness. The camera laughed, and then he realized he'd fallen asleep while glaring at the camera. When he woke up, he was in a compromising position with the female. "Get off of me!" he growled, and rolled over into an antisocial log. Maybe she'd go away.
It wasn't even daytime yet. Maybe, if he was contrite enough, he could persuade Norway or any of the others to make her go away...
But he couldn't renege upon his word to get out of the bed. He'd made a deal. Oh, the things he'd done for his friends, and the things he'd continue to do. If he didn't kill them after this week.
DAY TWO: He thanked all the gods and goddesses he could think of that she had gone away. Just gotten bored with him scowling and not taking off his clothes. However, he knew that this would bring the fans all down on his house, and he'd have to move again...Maybe his bed would sprout feet and carry him out of here. Pfach.
Denmark groaned and thumped his face into his pillow. To make matters worse, Norway came in, gave him a strange look, and said, "Shift your lazy bones, there's work to be done." And then an exceedingly long time was wasted as Denmark tried to explain his circumstances to the uncompromising nation. In the end, Norway gave up, shooting the Dane a disappointed look. Denmark hated that disappointed look. He knew that it meant no help from that quarter.
Also, lying in bed was boring. All he could do was stare at the ceiling, or out the window, or at the wall, or counting how many specks were embedded in the wallpaper. The daylight slanted across his blanket-swaddled form, and turned from sunrise orange to morning yellow to a faded gold to red to silver, and it wasn't technically daylight at that point. Denmark fell asleep, only to be woken up by voices outside his door. Norway walked in, followed by Sweden and Finland peeping around the doorframe. "See?" said Norway, pointing at him as he squinted at the nations through the light. "I told you."
Sweden made some noise of assent and grabbed Denmark's feet. Denmark scrabbled at the sheets, shouting, "No! No! I need my sleep!" Norway added another annoyance, reaching over with a whippy stick to strike across his knuckles in an effort to dislodge him. "Help! I'm being attacked!" hollered Denmark. The gleaming camera in the corner watched all.
Denmark got one leg free and stuck a fuzzy red sock in Sweden's face. Sweden was distracted long enough for him to readjust his grip and grab the bedposts. "Mmf!" Sweden was very annoyed now, though his face didn't show it. "Y'r g'tting out o' b'd so I c'n go back t' mine."
The entire tug-of-war was cut short when Sweden yanked on Denmark hard enough to stir the entire bed across the floor with a loud, heavy whump. Something fell over upstairs, and Iceland could be heard shouting over Sealand's higher pitched voice.
"We'll continue this tomorrow." Norway cast a biting glare at Denmark and marched out.
So Day Two did not end well at all.
DAY THREE: He was rudely awakened by Sealand coming in and bouncing on the bed. "Hullo, Uncle Denmark! Why are you lying in bed so much? Are you sick?" Denmark sat up straighter. "Hello, Sealand, and to what do I owe this pleasure? I'm not sick." He liked his sort-of-nephew. Sealand reminded him of himself when he was younger.
"Uncle Norway got Papa to get a chainsaw! I'm not sure what they're going to do with it though and Finny doesn't like it. Ice told me to warn you because he didn't want to hear you yelling all the time anymore, and maybe if you fixed whatever it is he could actually get a good night's sleep. So says Icy." Denmark smirked at all the hated nicknames. Finny, Icy...it showed he was teaching the kid all the right things.
Sealand bounded off his bed and headed for the door. "Come on, don't you want to see the chainsaw?" Denmark had to explain the circumstances to the small nation, and unlike Norway, he took it seriously. "So you can't get up? Ever? All week? What about going to the bathroom?"
Denmark made a face that was rather indescribable. "Don't mention it."
Sealand made a face (a different face than the indescribable one), and then brightened suddenly. "So could I be kind of a spy for you? Figure out what they're doing?" Denmark nodded, and then Sealand suddenly had an idea. He narrowed his eyes. "Pay me."
"Whaat?"Denmark said. Sealand started bouncing on the corner of the bed again. "You heard me. Pay up, bastard!" Denmark smoothed his hair and frowned. "Who taught you to talk like that?" The little boy shrugged. "I overheard Jerkland talking to France again, and also I was feeding Icy's puffin." Denmark laughed out loud and produced two krone. "One for the job, and one for the swearing. Here's another word you can use to rile Finny: stodder." Sealand's eyes lit up at the prospect of a new insult to hurl.
Sealand skipped downstairs. Denmark folded his hands behind his head and hoped Finland wouldn't get on his case for teaching the kid how to swear. At the very least, it would irritate the eyebrows-monster.
The chainsaw stared up under him; he could hear it, and it also sounded close to his bed. He wondered what they were doing, and wondered when his informant would return. His mind wandered, and he drifted into a vague dream of a refrigerator proposing to him during an avalanche. He woke up moments later when the buzz of the saw doubled in volume. "What the helvede are they doing down there? Surely they're not-" his eyes widened. "No skide way! They wouldn't-" The blade of the saw jabbed up through his carpet. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE?!" hollered Denmark. "STOP IT! STOP IT!" His yelling was for naught, as the blade began slowly chewing through the ground around his bed with perfect precision. With lack of anything else to do, he began throwing his body from side to side, trying to get the bed to scooch over. All he did was disrupt the blankets.
As the chainsaw completed its circuit, Denmark braced himself and fastened his hands to the bedframe. Any second now...
The bed fell ten feet and thudded into the ground satisfactorily. Norway and Sweden stood over him as he lay there, looking smug, Sweden with a chainsaw in one hand still spinning. "Nice work!" congratulated Norway, and tossed something at the TV, where Sealand was watching it. Denmark sputtered. "But...but...I paid you! We had a deal!"
Sealand smiled without looking at him and held up the wad of ten Swedish krona. Denmark scowled; The kid was too much like him after all.
DAY FOUR: He was awoken from his plaster and splinter covered bed by a pounding at the windows. He opened his eyes blearily - it was still night - and peered at the seeing receptacle. All was silent. And then Prussia appeared and smeared his face on the window, making him jump. The albino nation futzed with the window sash, SK and America close behind. Denmark flipped them off and rolled over.
"Surprise, surprise!" Prussia warbled, right next to his ear a moment later. "Rise and shine! My awesome power commands you to awake!" Denmark groaned and folded the pillow over his ears, refusing to acknowledge their presence.
SK squatted in front of Denmark's face and practiced his annoying breathing until the latter was forced to open his eyes. As soon as he opened them, he closed them again. "Sheesh!" he complained. "You coulda warned me! Last thing I want to see when I wake up is your ugly mug, I coulda gone blind!"
The rest of them laughed until Denmark hushed them. "Sweden has a chainsaw. Do you really need to give him an excuse to use it?" That shut them up quick.
"We came to see how you're holding up!" America said, springing around like a hyperactive puppy. "Because the camera doesn't really work anymore now that you're downstairs."
"Did you get laid, da-ze?" SK followed suit, until the Dane was surrounded by bouncing baby-faced nations. Well, not baby-faced, but it was a fun addition to the sentence. Ongoing with time, he answered, "I only didn't because you wanted me to." Prussia turned his pouty face to him. "Really?"
To which Denmark upended a bedpan onto his face.
DAY FIVE: The fans had come halfway through yesterday, trapping the Obnoxious Quartet in the house with the Nordics as rabid fans scratched at the paneling. Everyone was hiding in the attic. Except for Denmark, who was confined to his suddenly vulnerable-seeming bed. "Hey!" he called fearfully, seeing the faces of the fans stretch along the window. "Guys? Can you get me out of here?"
"Not on your life!" shouted Prussia through the vents.
"You made your bed, now lie in it." Norway's snappish tone was recognizably even here, with screaming members of the female gender plastering themselves against the window. Denmark was very glad he'd accepted the window salesman's offer to bullet-proof the windows.
"You sure you don't want to come up, Uncle Denmark?"
"Be quiet, you little traitor! I have no business with you!" He scanned the windows and heard scratching at the door. Apparently someone was pulling a Belarus and destroying the furniture. When he moved his head to view this person he'd sue later, it was her!
Denmark courageously retreated under his covers and hoped none of them would get in.
After braving the rest of the day, some of the fans retreated as the police showed up and called them back. However, some hid, and his sleep was punctuated with sounds of hammering or muted shouting. "Hey, Denmark, Denny, is that you?"
He pulled the blanket back over his face and groaned. A moment later he poked his head back out and said, "Don't call me Denny!" in the loudest whisper that wasn't a talk. The fan went silent, apparently surprised that he'd spoken. And then they were talking again.
Denmark whimpered and retreated again.
DAY SIX: They got in on that day. Thankfully, during the night, the rest of the Obnoxious Quartet snuck down and dragged his bed to the attic for safety, with Finland wincing with every scrape on the floor and the walls, and Denmark groaning for every bump. Once they'd somehow dragged the four-poster bed into the attic and pulled the door back up, Denmark found himself the recipient of four cold glares and one Sealand-glare. He shrank down under his blanket until only his eyes remained.
"Blame then," he suggested, crooking his finger towards the Obnoxious ones.
Then there was a splintering sound - Finland cringed again - and there were the sounds of a horde of fans spilling through the apparently-battered down door. Sealand had one of those toy periscopes that he'd gotten Japan to modify, and had it poked through the vents to report on the crazed mob of humans. "They're all hopping around and holding their feet now, and they're not wearing any shoes, either!"
Denmark smirked. "I had Prussia pour crazyglue on the front steps and then scatter legos all over the floor! I'm a genius!"
"I beg to differ," muttered Norway. Sealand reported "They're on the second floor, and some of them fell through the great big hole that Papa cut." Sweden smiled tersely and hefted the chainsaw. "You're not actually going to use that, are you?" burst out America, and in response Sweden revved the saw in his direction. America hid behind Iceland, who frowned. "He won't use it," whispered Sealand into his cousin's ear. A moment later, he turned to the periscope. "Third floor! Shh, everybody!"
The attic was deathly silent as all the nations quieted. Footsteps trampled the hall underneath them. Denmark didn't dare to breathe. They might hear him.
Also he'd 'broken wind', as Sweden made him say. Apparently he didn't want Sealand running around shouting "Fart!" at the top of his lungs. Denmark had a feeling that lying in a bed with nothing much to eat could cause supremely odiferous farts.
Prussia began inhaling for his next breath. Then he gagged, put his hands to his throat in an exaggerated gesture of choking, and began hacking. Norway turned his diamond-cut glare to him, until he too inhaled the poisonous cloud and his expressionless face turned to shock. Everyone in the room began keeling over except for Denmark, who sat happily in his bed, a steady producer of stinkbomb gas.
"Eugh," retched SK. "Farts originated in me, da-ze."
Finland threw up out the window.
DAY SEVEN: The smell in the attic had grown steadily worse. Everyone was crammed as close as they could to the window and as far away as possible from Denmark, who was feeling quite smug. He was congested, after all - an irritating allergy to fans - and couldn't smell a single thing.
"I'm sorry," wheezed Norway. "Make it stop."
"Aim your ass at the fans!" cried Sealand, earning him a smack from Finland. "We don't use that language," he said sternly. Sealand pouted.
The fans were running amok, and only one of them found the attic. Said fan had received a dose of fart gas to the face, and was, as far as they knew, on their way to the hospital.
"Sealand has a point," agreed Prussia, looking much worse for wear. "Please fart on them to make them go away."
"Fart into the vent ducts!" suggested Iceland, pinching his nose shut.
Denmark scooted over in his bed and aimed his posterior at the vents where Sealand's periscope used to be. "Boot up the ol' air conditioner!"
America saluted. "Air Conditioner booting up, sir!"
The old machinery came to life with a dusty rattle and thrum. Denmark positioned his butt directly over a broken duct and waited. "Actually..." he said after several minutes of the awkward position, "I think I'm all out of farts."
Sweden gave him his indomitable glare. Denmark made a fart, a small, puny squeaky thing.
"More!" urged SK, holding his nose, while Norway facepalmed in the corner.
Denmark inhaled, closed his eyes, and made the most constipated face he could imagine. A low rumble feeling built up in his lower stomach amid a few chuckles, and a bubble traveled down to his butt. "THAR SHE BLOWS!"
An utterly putrescent fart exploded out of his rear with such a force that it bowled him head over heels onto the ground, where he might've possibly broken his neck. There were screams and shouts from below, while Denmark listened in pleasure. "They're leaving!" cheered Sealand. "Hooray for them," coughed Iceland. "I don't think the house is good anymore. The air is inimical to life, I bet."
America, Prussia, and SK stared at where Denmark's face was pressed into the wooden attic floor. "YOU LEFT THE BED!" bellowed America. "YOU LEFT IT BEFORE THE DARE TIME WAS UP!" SK pointed and squealed. "Failure originated in me, da-ze!" Prussia was laughing his signature laugh. "Kesesesese~"
"Au contraire!" snapped Denmark, pulling himself upright. "You see the time? It's past when we started this thing! I win!"
The Obnoxious ones deflated. "You're right..." Suffering the glare of the Nordics plus Sealand, Prussia offered a cheesy grin. Denmark crossed his arms and scowled, face morphing slowly into a smirk. "Payback time."
Switzerland's sleep was once again disturbed. He groaned, pulling a bathrobe over his pajamas, and poked his head out the window. It wasn't Italy tonight, for there were no high-pitched "Ve~"s and no shouts from a certain German nation, and it wasn't Japan that one time someone'd talked him into hang gliding and he'd failed. It wasn't Sealand coming to irritate Lili, and he didn't hear the strains of the chicken dance.
He grabbed his gun from its spot hanging above the window and poked his head out.
Three nations were screaming and running across the edge of his property while one chased them with a chainsaw in one hand, axe in the other. He peered closer. Was that...Prussia, America, and just now shouting "Not being chopped in half with a chainsaw originated in me, da-ze!"...that was definitely SK. Pursuing them was Denmark.
At the speed they were running, they'd be gone soon enough, but he fired off a warning shot anyway. Or more like a warning clip of ammo.
The sounds of the fleeing nations was music to his ears. He turned around to see Lili standing in the doorway, pink nightgown stirring slightly in the breeze from the window. "What is it, brother?"
He hung up the gun and closed the window gently. "Just a bunch of crazy people. They can't get us here. Go back to sleep." He kissed her on both cheeks and sent her back to bed.
Crazy people.
