Hetalia: The Truth of Dares

by ScribbleScrap

A depressingly large storm rolls in and traps all of the countries at America's house. Boredom settles in, and a distraction is needed. (A Truth or Dare, written in a regular story form, not a script. All dares accepted, excluding anything too inappropriate. Updated as soon as possible. Despite there being 50 of these things, I'm giving it a shot)

1. Scene Set

Hetalia: The Truth of Dares

Rules: Any dares/truths are acceptable, excluding anything too inappropriate. Let's keep this at a Teen rating, savvy? At the moment, the characters up for torture consist of anyone seen in the anime. Depending on how far this will go, I may add others for fun. I'll answer as fast as humanly possible. Lastly, the format of the dares/truths will be written like any normal book. Not like a script. You'll see how the countries receive their questions. It'll be a mystery until it happens.

Despite this being the 5000thdare book floating out on the internet, I'll give it a go. Cheers!

A large house, an old house. More importantly however, A quiet house. With a World Meeting starting with an argument about whose problem they should argue about first and then ending with more consistent shouting and small tiffs, it was a wonder how they were all sleeping peacefully under the same roof.

Let's not say that the world can't produce miracles. It's just extremely hard to find relatively solid common ground.

Putting that aside, back to America's house. Which, at the moment, was snowed in by a massive storm that should have been light flurries. With gusts of wind and large flakes battering the windows, no one fancied walking home anyways, let alone push open a door packed shut with snow. It wasn't very surprising that Russia and a few of the Nordics already tried that, but America insisted that shoveling snow wasn't something he'd like to do inside his house. As the feeling of being trapped slowly settled in and the fact that a storm this relentless was unlikely to stop very soon, a foggy sort of misery hung over everyone's head. Just before retiring to bed, the majority of them snapped at three countries and stepped on the toes and kicked the shins of four. Tensions were high indeed.

Italy, meanwhile, sat on the edge of his bed and prayed for entertainment. Or, at the very most, some sort of distraction from this confining predicament.

The (Cliché) scene is set! Now to wait for that "Distraction". Make it a good one!