I don't own Hetalia. If I did you'd know.

First try at comedy because I've noticed almost all my other stories have been either really depressing or really... Smutty. Yeah, so I know I haven't been on a lot lately and I apologize for that, it's mostly keeping up with classes. AP kills. More is explained at the end of this chapter. Warnings? Ah, probably only cursing. For now. So.

Enjoy.


"Ludwig! Hurry up!" Gilbert's voice rasped from within the van, followed by collective murmurs of agreement.

The blonde grit his teeth in annoyance, trying (and failing) not to roll his eyes. He held back a growl as he gave one final shove to the stubborn suitcase, pushing with as much strength as an agreeably unhappy post-adolescent could. At last the package yielded, falling in place with the others crammed in the very back of the vehicle.

Ludwig slammed the trunk shut and trudged to the front door, opening it and sitting himself in the front seat. He drew out a long, stressful sigh as his shoulders slumped. Despite the cold autumn weather, a thin layer of sweat beaded across his brow.

In the passenger seat, Gilbert raised a silver brow in question. "Took you long enough." the elder commented. His brother glared, "Shut up." he snapped as he wiped his forehead.

"Well you were being slow." the albino grunted sourly. He shifted, "Your boyfriend it's taking too long." he muttered.

"Where is he?" Ludwig asked, confused. "He's not my boyfriend." he added hastily.

"He went to the bathroom like half an hour ago." Alfred sat forward, leaning between the two the seat behind them.

"He probably fell in again." Gilbert retorted amusedly, grinning as he pictured the Italian.

Ludwig shot him a disapproving look as Alfred snickered behind them.

"There they are." Francis drew in a low monotone, pointing a filed finger out the window with a bored expression. Both Germans turned to look at the Frenchman before shifting their attention to where he was pointing.

Sure enough, Lovino trudged down the hill, hauling an unhappy Feliciano behind him. Antonio followed behind the brothers, staring after Lovino like a lost puppy.

"He's got it bad." Alfred murmured.

"Who does?" Ludwig asked with a frown.

"Antonio," Francis sighed, as if it were obvious. Which is was. Just not to Ludwig. He grunted, shifting to push Alfred to the side so he could lean between the two Germans, "he's had it bad for Lovino since grade school. It's pretty obvious. Has been for years." The Frenchman announced

"I didn't go to grade school with you." Ludwig pointed out

"Whatever."

He should just tell him already." Alfred chimed from the window.

"Lovino already knows." Gilbert interjected impatiently, rolling down the window and sticking his head out, "Oi! Hurry up or we'll leave you here!" he called

The group quickened their pace down the hill until they reached the vehicle, Lovino glaring daggers and muttering curses aimed towards the self-proclaimed 'Prussian' under his breath. Feliciano followed, teary-eyed behind him.

The albino smirked. For some ungodly reason or another, (Ludwig thought it was jealousy) his brother found it necessary in making Feliciano's life Hell. He even took joy in it!

Feliciano looked to Ludwig for condolence, "Were you really going to leave us?" he asked, through the passenger window.
Ludwig frowned "Nein. Of course no-"
"Ja. We would have. So get in." Gilbert interrupted flatly, receiving yet another disapproving look from his younger brother as he rolled up the window.

"That was rude." Ludwig muttered, leaning against the back seat as Feliciano got in the back of the van, wedged between Alfred and Lovino.

Ludwig sat in the driver seat, Gilbert beside him riding shot-gun. Behind him, Francis sat quietly examining his nails, his leg propped against his knee. Next to him, Antonio sat, brooding. Presumably over something Lovino had said.

Meanwhile, Ludwig massaged his temples, calming his already frazzled nerves. They hadn't even left the driveway yet and already he was fighting the urge to physically rip out his hair. Eight hours of this? How would he be able to survive? Simple: Classical music.

Eventually he pulled out of the driveway and continued on down the road before turning onto the highway. Barely fifteen minutes of silence passed.

"Hey Lud?"

"What, Gilbert?" the blonde sighed wearily, mentally preparing himself

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"You just did."

"You know what I mean." Gilbert rolled his eyes

"Alright. What?"

"How the hell do you expect to pick up chicks in this rust bucket?" he asked

Ludwig blinked in confusion at the blunt question. He frowned as he glanced over at his brother, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. Gilbert simply stared back, waiting for an answer. He turned back to the road. "I don't…" he answered slowly

"Because you're gay?" Gilbert pressed

"NO. We are not having his conversation again!"

"But you've never eve—"

"Drop it, Gilbert. I'm not gay."

"Denial." An unmistakably French accent sang from behind the two
Ludwig glared through the rearview mirror, "Shut up, Francis." He snapped

"No need to get all defensive." The Frenchman huffed

"I'm not being defensive!" The German shot back, scowling

"Oui, you a—"

"In any case, you're not going to get anyone in this. Maybe a soccer mom." Gilbert snickered at his own joke, "We should have taken my Cadillac."

Ludwig grumbled inaudibly.

"What?"

"I said, that thing is a death-trap."

"No it isn't!"

"My van is fine. It's stable, comfortable, the interior doesn't look like a trashcan, oh, and it doesn't cost a fortune in gas." He gave Gilbert a pointed look

"You spend more on gas than I do." The hurt albino said defensively "Plus I got her fixed. It's not a death trap." He crossed his arms "This van is lame."

"She," Ludwig purposely slowed the word, "is too small for seven people. Where would we fit everyone? Besides, you're legally blind and I can't drive that thing. I don't know why you even got it."

"Just a stick shift, God Lud. Anyways the old man said I couldn't, so I did." Gilbert explained smugly, crossing his arms "Totally worth it, by the way. Chicks dig it."

"I hope that by chicks you mean Gilbird."

"Ha. Sure, Lud."

"You mean women don't care that it smells like vomit?"

The elder eyed a smiling Ludwig icily, "Bite me." He snapped

"Zombies wouldn't bite you, Gil. I have standards." Was Ludwig's tart reply as he reached for the radio dial. A moment later the interior of the car was filled with a calm, quiet melody.

Gilbert groaned. "Turn that classical shit off, would ya?"

"My car, my rules."

"How many times have I changed the station for you in my car?" the elder demanded

"Never. You told me to deal with it. Antonio, it's too quiet back there." He turned his head to glance in the back

"They're all sleeping." the Spaniard announced

"Even Alfred?" Gilbert asked incredulously

"Si." Antonio murmured, his eyes lingering on Lovino

"Huh. I guess Five Hour Energy does have a crash. No wonder it's so quiet." The silver haired man shrugged

"Not with you two bickering the whole time." Francis scowled, gesturing to the two Germans

"Who's idea was it to bring the Frenchie?" Gilbert asked

"Yours." The three answered in sync

Gilbert sank back into his seat.

"Then whose idea was it to bring the tomato bastard?" Lovino spoke up

"Lovi! You're awake!" Antonio beamed

"Don't call me that, bastard."

"You brought him along." Gilbert accused the driver, jerking a thumb towards the older of the two Italians

"No. Feliciano brought him." Ludwig replied patiently

"Shut up potato bastard."

"Lovino, your middle name, Romano is actually the name of a type of pota—"

And cheese!" Antonio interrupted

NO. It's fucking not! I was named for Giulio Romano! He was a painter in Italia-Not that you would know-so shut up bastard!"

"I didn't say anything!" Gilbert shouted back angrily

"Not you! The blonde one!"

"Excuse moi?! I'm blonde!" Francis sat up and turned towards the back

"You're wine bastard." Alfred explained in a matter-of-fact tone

"When the hell did burger bastard wake up?"

"ENOUGH."

The car went silent, save the classical music in the back ground. All eyes turned to the driver seat. Ludwig glared at them. His face had gone pink with either anger or embarrassment. He turned back to the road, nostrils flaring.

"You okay? Looks like you're trying to give birth or something..." Gilbert trailed off as he received a none-too-friendly look from his brother.

The rest of the company exchanged quizzical looks.

Another hour or so passed in silence. The last rays of the sun drained from the sky, melting the colors of the sunset away as shadows cast the sky into night.

Gilbert stared out the window quietly, for once. Ruby eyes followed the lights along the road, reading signs as they drove past. A cluster of buildings came into view. Among them was a pet shop. Bear came to mind. Bear was the dog he'd gotten Ludwig (against their father's wishes) when he was about seven. Ludwig was twenty one now. Bear had been some mutt Gilbert picked up on the road. He was cute as a puppy with large brown eyes, fluffy black hair and attitude but now he was… well… Big. Slobbery. Stinky. Hairy. He had this breathing problem and constantly sounded like he was having a heart attack. When he licked his nose, saliva rand down the length of his back and the only one who ever went near him was Ludwig, even though he was no longer the little boy who had fallen in love with the dog. The boy was gone but the love was still there.

Gilbert hated that dog with a burning passion almost immediately after getting it. Now that the dog was old and crippled with arthritis, he was just counting the days until it keeled over and they could get a new one. A better dog… Like a German shepherd perhaps. Yes, something kickass and awesome. With this in mind, he turned to Ludwig.

"Hey Lud?"

The sound of Ludwig gritting his teeth was heard. The sound abruptly stopped, "Yes?"
Bear is getting old."

"I know."

"…"

"Are you gonna get another once he dies?"

Ludwig was silent for a long moment, "I'm not going to replace him if that's what you're asking, Gilbert. Could you ever replace Gilbird?"

"Well, no." the albino admit hesitantly

"Then why do you think I'd replace Bear?"

Another minute of silence passed.

"I don't think I could ever replace Gilbird," Gilbert continued, "but I would get another pet. Something weird like a hermit crab or somethin'." The elder explained with a shrug

"What about crabs?" Francis yawned, stretching his legs to nudge Gilbert's seat.

"I'm thinking about getting crabs."

And the fuse was lit.

"You've got crabs?!" the blonde's eyes snapped open and widened in horror. The Frenchman quickly pulled his legs away from the German

"What? No!" Gilbert shook his head violently

"Who has crabs?" Antonio asked in alarm

"Gilbert does." Francis informed, still cowering away

"I do not!"

"Dude, gross." Alfred grimaced

"NO! Ludwig, tell them I don't have crabs!" he pleaded. The only answer he received was a poorly concealed snort of laughter from his younger, usually stoic brother.

Francis shook his head, tsking. "I don't want to say I told you so, but I did tell you that the woman at the bar last weekend wasn't cle—"

"Oh shut up! She had nice legs, god! Who made you the fucking love guru?!"
Considering I'm the one who taught you how to give—"

"Alright! Fine! Hypocrite, you should be the one with crabs!"

"So you do have crabs?" Alfred asked in confusion

"NO!"

"You just said—" Antonio started

"I don't have crabs!" Gilbert snarled

"Crabs are delicious but pasta is much better. Why are we talking about crabs?" Feliciano piped up

"Potato bastard has crabs." His brother answered dryly

"Ludwig has crabs?" the Italian tilted his head, "Ludwig can you share your crabs? I'm hungry." He smiled obliviously as Lovino deadpanned

"Not the blonde bimbo, the other one!"

"I DO NOT!"

Feliciano blinked, "Oh. Gilbert can you share?"

The albino sneered "Fucking idiot."

"Pubic crabs, Feli." Antonio chided gently

"What are those?"

"Well," Francis supplied, "when two people meet and fall in love, or in Gilbert's case, they just get horny, they decide to go into the bathroom at the bar and have hot, passiona—"

The car stopped suddenly, sending everyone jerking against their seat belts.
"Alright. That's enough. Time for the quiet game." Ludwig announced, releasing the break.

"About damn time." Gilbert spat

"You lose." Alfred pointed out.

"Whatever."

"Don't be a brat. Stop being angry over the crab thing it was your own fault anyways."

The albino shrugged, "I live a little is all. You should get your head out of your ass to see the light of day and try it sometime. Get laid."

Alfred snickered from the back seat and leaned forward, intent on joining in on the fun of pestering Ludwig, "Seriously, when's the last time you got la-"

"Ludwig?" Feliciano interrupted timidly.

Ludwig already knew. "We just stopped an hour ago." he informed patiently.

"I didn't have to go then." the Italian whimpered

"Hold it."

"I can't!"

"And I can't stop in the middle of the road!"

"Dammit, bastard don't yell at him! If you scare him he will piss everywhere!"

Gilbert turned on Lovino, glaring, "He better fucking not!"

Feliciano shrieked and clung to his brother.

"He's like a chihuahua," Antonio grinned "with a nervous bladder."

"Mio fratello is not a fucking chihuahua!"

"He's like one. He pees when he gets nervous. You're like one, too. Cute but you bite." the Spaniard scowled

"Mexican bastard!"

"I'm Spanish!"

"I don't care!"

"Will you all shut up?!" Francis screeched

Ludwig gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His hand reached for the radio dial. Classical music filled the car, assaulting the passenger's ears, pounding into their skulls as efficiently as any heavy metal ever could. The music demanded to be heard, forcing them to an uneasy, placid calm.

Gilbert winced and once again retreated into his hood.

Antonio clasped his hands over his ears.

Francis plugged in his iPod and went to blatantly ignoring his company.

Alfred sang the Star Spangled Banner loudly.

Lovino calmed his brother who had not surprisingly, started crying.

Ten minutes of this passed.

That is, until Alfred stopped in the middle of the seventh round of Star Spangled Banner to press his nose against the window (which irked Ludwig) and point. There was a McDonalds sign on the right shoulder.

"Lud, I'm hungry."

"No."

"C'mon, please?"

"No, we're behind as it is."

"But Feli still has to piss."

While he didn't appreciate the profanity, Ludwig glanced into the rearview mirror guiltily. Feliciano had stopped crying but stared out the window silently, not his usual annoyingly bubbly self.

"Feli?" He asked gently.

The Italian looked up.

"You still need to use the restroom, ja?"

"Si."

The German let out a soft sigh and took the exit. He knew he'd regret this decision. He was proven right a record twenty minutes later. He hated being right sometimes.


I realize that this chapter was longer than usualand that's probably due to my new technology. I've got an Android now and its pretty damn convenient being portable and all. I know this chapter was… It was a bit confusing? With all the names and nationalities and such. I'm not used to having to write about so many characters so I apologise for being so nondescript. Anyways I'll probably write one more chapter and possibly a sequel.

On another note, some of you might wonder why (Or others might not care so most of you can skip this whole paragraph)I mentioned the dog Bear instead of Blackie, Berlitz or Astrid which are some of the usual dogs Germany has been shown with. The reason is simple enough: I've got a dog named Bear and he's older than dirt and he's going to die very soon so thus is kind of my way of immortalizing his 16 years of loyal companionship. Some of you can hate me for self inserting or placing an OC in there whatever you want to call it even if it is an animal, but I really don't care. My prerogative. Flames entertain me. They make me giggle. While I have yet to receive one, I'm sure I'll get there one day.

Thank you to ask my followers and their limitless patience with me, I appreciate every review, follow, PM, Favorite, etc.

I'll try to be more active and I'll blame junior year for not being here as much as I used to be. Highly stressful.

Anywhore, read and review my darling lovelies.

- BlackWolfOfBlueMoon