Conch stared down at the cardboard and greasy food in front of her, eyes narrowing.

"You realize this means war," she declared, looking up at her father.

America gazed back at her, eyes wide in innocence even as he swallowed his stolen chicken nugget. "That seems a bit much," he replied, reaching for his drink. "Want some of my fries?" he offered.

Conch made an exasperated sound. "This isn't about stealing food! This is about respecting my sovereign resources!" Her jeans rubbed against the hard, plastic bench as she leaned back and crossed her arms. "Peace will come only after my demands are met."

Her father was fighting back a grin. "A diplomatic resolution should always be attempted before combat operations." He grabbed his phone. "I'll call Virginia and see about forming a committee to handle negotiations."

"We do not have time to discuss this in a committee! Three school buses just pulled up outside. This place is about to be slammed." Conch jabbed a finger at him. "And my demands have increased for making me quote Episode 1."

America swallowed his bubbling laughter. Dear Conch. Lunch was never boring. "Well, in the face of the imminent grade schooler invasion, I'll take the risk of handling negotiations myself and get executive approval later."

"Good." Conch planted her elbows on either side of her half-eaten (stolen!) lunch and leaned in. "Large chocolate shake, medium side french fries, you refill my Coke, and you clear all the trash."

Tapping his lips with his phone, America considered the terms. "I'll accept those conditions if you also agree cede control of the radio to me when we drive over to Florida's for dinner."

Conch gave him measuring gaze. After several tense moments, and with the elementary children outside now being herded towards the door by harried looking chaperones, she reach out her right hand to shake over the terms.

America grinned, shook, and then stood, stuffing his phone into one of the many pockets on his shorts with one hand and grabbing her drink with the other. "I'll be right back!"

Conch giggled and started gathering the trash while America hurried to beat the chaperones to the order counter. Peace once again reigned between nation and micronation…for now.