Personality Change-Over!

When an English man is making magic in his basement, a French man has to be making love in his own. Now toss a drunken Canadian on a couch made for l'amour and two Germans in a British pub, you get the formula for disaster.

-/-/-

It was just another one of those days when England was screwing around with his magic powers, trying to get back at certain blonde gitts and other nameless (this was actually a fact now that that wall had fell) people who're bothering the peace in a certain country he planned on vacationing when 2050 rolled around. He swore, that place was perfect for a man like himself. One who's seen it all and is finally feeling quite tame and quiet. With this goal in mind, and looking like a stereotypical D&D* nerd, he started brewing the magic that would change the world.

Of course, while England was planning deviously in his basement, France would be in his own basement, doing only the-author-knows-what. The l'amour sprouting Frenchman grinned evilly as he pulled out a wine bottle marked with a heart. Not that it really stood out much. All his bottles of wine had a heart somewhere on it. But this one was really, really special. When he went to visit Greece awhile back, he borrowed a little potion from him. Sadly, he had yet to return it... anyway, the potion wasn't very big nor shiny or probably not as important as it was in Frances hands. Then again, the Greek man had seemed upset shortly after France had taken his APHRODITE's LOVE POTION from his closet of kinky stuff. Mon Deiu, France thought, did he pick it all up from Turkey when he was younger or did he learn as he went?

None the less. France was now in possession of an alcoholic beverage that could very well act like cupids arrows (and destroy the world as we know it). Now, what would he do with it? That, was a very, very important question. He could just waste it all on himself or, do something more productive. Like... fix that problem where Alfred and Arthur only made out when drunk beyond help, or, maybe, to make sure Hercules didn't hate him, give the wine to Kiku in sake form and then blind fold him till Hercules got there.

The more of the scenarios that went through France's head, the later it got. It wasn't till eight – Ah non! Mon supper! – that he realised that his younger-brother-son-blood-relation-ship-thing, Mathieu was sitting on his couch, drinking his Molson Canadian [non-Canadians read: beer] like a depressed fool.

"M...Mathieu?" France wondered. This was odd.

"Gilbert! That idiot! He knew I was taking a bath! Really! What kind of person pours maple syrup into a bath tub then joins his friend in the tub, eh?" Matthew shook his head in a sad, drunk, way. "I mean, eh, if maple syrup is too be used on anything other than pancakes and coffee, it'll be lube."

France was shocked. Only for twenty seconds. You see, he realised that his blood relation sort of friend was drunk. Which, was one of the few ways to make him less timid. Normally one would have to catch him when he was tired (Truly tired now. Like, "I just spent five days travelling from country to country with my idiotic brother who thinks he's a hero just by selling health care. I have jet lag and am pretty sure France just gave me cooties or something. Also, Ivan sat on me and as if the long-distance-relationship problem Alfred and Arthur have will ease a headache. Kumatora even shit on Germany's foot. It took me five hours to get Kumatama back from Germany" tired.) Or catch him during or playing a hockey game.

France grinned playfully. If this worked out, he could get rid of the evidence that showed he even had Greece's potion if he were ever put on trial.

"Mon pitié" Francis swooned. Mathieu looked up. "J'ai... I think you should have this" France smiled sweetly while handing his son/brother the wine bottle with the really special heart.

That smile cause Matthew to sober some. He had learned – when he was in his teenage years – never to accept anything from that guy when he smiled like that.

"A-hh... I, I really need to get back home. Kumadingo and Gilbert are probably burning the house down because they tried to cook..." Matthew declined shyly.

Zut. France sighed. Time to tell the truth. "Didn't you already kick him out? And he already called me. Suggesting that I go drink with him."

"H-he called. What did he say?"

France hid his knowing smile. "He just said that you were being mean to him. And some things in German. I think, he said 'You should have seen Mattie when he was in the tub, man. He was so edible.' And that you make the cutest noises."

Oh yeah. Canada remembered, I kicked him out because he was telling the world (well, it was France but he gossiped about anything with l'amour thrown into it) about what they were doing.

"I-I should really be going." Matthew knew that look in Frances eyes. It basically spelt rape.

"Oh, non, non. You should stay. I still have your room. Everything's the way it was. I still have your clothes."

Shit. "B-But they're kids clothes'eh!" Canada protested. Sadly, not even his strength (which was almost on par with Americas) could keep a Frenchman eyeing rape at bay.

Before Francis was even able to strip Canada of his boxers, England's voice rang through the house, "OII You frog! Where in the bloody hell are 'ya. I have something you'd like!" And then England saw the scene.

Not long after, Gilbert joined Arthur in the doorway, muttering something about pushy Brits and feeling the need to throw up. He was already pretty drunk.

And when Gilbert saw what Arthur saw, he dropped his German beer on a counter and then sighed. He walked over to Canada, picked him up and brought him to safety. Canada blinked. Not because the entire Canadian population (who were reading this) were stunned by his actions, but because he was Matthew Williams. The only man who'd bothered to get to know Gilbert – more than a nation – and still be okay with his "Kekeke I'm invading your vital regions" attitude. But, that little act he did just then was nowhere near Gilbert's usual self. It wasn't because he was drunk either. Matthew knew what Gilbert was like when he was drunk. And this, was defiantly not Gilbert.

And to make it more wired, Gilbert turned to France and did a very un-Prussian thing to do. Not that what he was already doing wasn't the normal Prussian thing, but still. It wasn't like Gilbert to ask France not to molest his friend. Normally, Gilbert would have punched his friend in the face before glaring at Francis and warning him never to touch his brother-son that away again. Then, after they made their amends, Gilbert would have taken Matthew for himself.

Everyone was aware of this change. France was frozen on the spot, trying to understand why he wasn't sporting a black eye. Canada sat there in his boxers in a very confused/to-busy-thinking state while Gilbert checked to see if Francis had done something to him. And then there was England. Grinning evilly as the world processed what was going on.

"l"Angeterre?" Francis asked England, "Is this what you wanted to show me?"

Smirking England replied with a "yes."

"And why would have this... pleased moi?" France asked, still staring at Gilbert quizzically.

"Because he's... hm, tame. And I'm sure that bloody American fool would prefer this one dating his brother. I know I am."

France looked from the depressing Prussian albino-ish man to the forgotten bottle of wine on the coffee table. Then, his eyes wandered to England's giant eyebrows. There, he realised something and looked into the green eyes the English man owned.

"... Quoi ... What did you do to him?"

"Nothing really." England shrugged, "just spiked his drink. His and Germany's drinks to be exact."

"Germany's drink?" Canada piped up. The Canadian looked at the guy who went back to his beer, in a very Ludwig-style. Matthew looked at his adoptive father with horror, "Y-You didn't."

England laughed a little evilly, "I did, lad. It'd be quieter now."

Canada sighed. Germany was boring on his own. Now, because England did something stupid, his best friend was now appealing as a stack of overdue papers. He'd have to ask Italy how he lived with the guy...

Wait. If Prussia had his brother's personality, would Germany have his brother's or his own...?

Canada's question of the ages was answered as soon as he finished asking it. Well, the true German had just burst into the room looking for "EASTTTT!" in a very Gilbert-style.

"BRUDER! You ignored my invitation to have a Drinking Contest!" Germany hollered.

The world grew silent enough to hear Switzerland fire his gun off in rage. God, didn't people know he was sleeping?

Canada looked over at England, smug smirk playing at his lips, "yeah, some quiet it is 'eh."

England was flustered and glared momentarily at his ex-colony to make him feel better. Before the English man noticed the "eh," he had thought that he was glaring at America. England mentally kicked himself, sighing. "Sorry Matt." But before the English man was able to return to his basement and D&D cosplay clothes, France held him back with a hand, "explain."

Arthur, like all English gentlemen, sighed and told the toad that he'd explain after he got himself some tea. You know, to calm his nerves.

Canada looked up at his brother/father figure of a guy, France, "You really don't get the situation?"

"Well, about five minutes ago I was hoping to molest you. Then mon ami, l'angeterre came in with a very depressing Gilbert who was followed by a crazy German man I think, is probably Ludwig, non?" France said, with his French accent failing to amuse his Canadian relative, "I'm startled so I don't really understand the situation." France told Canada while Germany was trying to drag Prussia back to the bar.

"But Matthew's here. I can't just leave him with that rape face can I?"
"Relax East, I'm sure you've done it more than once. Come on, I have to make sure I'm still more awesome than you."

"What the heck is with you bruder?" Gilbert asked, shaking his head, turning to keep an eye on France.

Germany's face stared at his brother's blankly – till the thought of teasing came into his head, which did happen and his face crept into a mischievous grin. "East, I'm sure you know our awesome bond is quite large, ja" Germany started.

"What of it?"

"Nothing. But I can't help but notice your affliction with America"

"It's Canada." Prussia glowered, face flushing slightly.

"Ja, ja, Canada, America, they both inhabit North America, no difference – "

"There is! America's a dick who forgets about Birdie even though he's standing right in front of him! Birdie on the other hand, is a really a nice guy who forgives the world even though we all step on him!" Gilbert caught his breath and looked at his brother. He sighed, cheeks pink with embarrassment, "You know what, never mind." And with that, the Prussian man left the room and shut a door. A soft click and a loud, exasperated sigh were heard from the bathroom.

"Hmm. I wonder if that'll ease the situation any..." England said, stepping into the room with his freshly brewed tea in hand.

-/-/-

Author: DUDEE. I totally have no clue what this is. BUT, If ANY OF THE CHARACTERS ARE OUT OF IT (OOC) OR IF YOU KNOW HOW TO SPELL "ENGLAND" IN FRENCH, please, please tell me. (As I'm too lazy to look through my French text book *shot*)

Also, I'm sorry – for whatever I've done wrong. Which; is probably ending this chapter then and there... I probably could've went on a little longer... but meh. I lost the muse that led me to write this.

D&D probably means Dungeons and Dragons. I say "probably" because I read it in another fanfic...