It's America's 7th birthday, and Jefferson is hosting the first true celebration of American independence. But of course, who ever said everything would go as planned?

okay yeah i know tjeffs doesnt come home until 1789 but i wanted him to come home faster okay dont question my life decisions

1783

Monticello

"I still don't understand why we have to celebrate our nation's independence in Jefferson's house," Hamilton grumbled, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his eyes not meeting Washington's.

"We're doing this here because Mr. Jefferson has the most free space in his home."

"I know..."

Washington knocked on the large door and waited patiently with Hamilton. They appeared to be the first to arrive. They didn't know how many people had been invited, but there were definitely a lot of people coming.

After about a minute, the door opened to reveal Jefferson, who was grinning.

"Come in! Everything all set up!"

Washington and Hamilton followed Jefferson into the mansion, passing through several corridors before reaching a large salon.

"Make yourselves at home!" Jefferson said, his cheery voice already starting to gradually give way to a more irritated tone. "I'm going to go greet the next arrivals." He quickly left the room, leaving Washington and Hamilton alone.

"Well, then..." Hamilton said, immediately turning his attention to the food.

"Son, wait for the others to arrive before you start eating." Washington narrowed his eyes slightly in Hamilton's direction before turning to the bookshelf in the corner of the room.

Hamilton mumbled, "Don't call me son..." under his breath and shuffled over to Washington sullenly, focusing on the books instead of Washington.

The party slowly became more cheerful as more people arrived. James Madison had struck up a conversation and tried to get Hamilton and Jefferson to interact, which was easily failing as the two discovered they had incredibly opposed opinions. Washington was talking with other political leaders, trying to get them on his side. Ben Franklin was sitting in a corner and creating origami instead of talking.

Jefferson had been sensible enough to hide the alcohol, and had instead replaced it with something called "apple juice" (probably French).

After what was about 3 hours, according to the grandfather clock, Jefferson brought out a large pile of presents.

He announced, "Many nations were kind enough to send us presents to help celebrate America's 7th year of independence." He arranged the presents neatly on a new table as he spoke. "Who would like to help open them?"

Many people volunteered all at once, and one by one, each present was opened. Some china from China, sugar from France (and a note that said, "We'd send you something of real value but as you see we're in the middle of a revolution and things have gone to hell"), precious stones from India, as well as countless different things from many of their newfound allies in other countries.

Jefferson stared at the floor, which was now more wrapping paper than actual wood. He pushed all of the wrapping paper into a pile, then froze as he noticed a brown, unwrapped box lying on the ground. Jefferson picked it up.

"Who's that from?" Hamilton asked, staring at the box cautiously as if it held a ticking bomb (although I don't think bombs existed back then).

Jefferson inspected the box from all angles, finding nothing. "It doesn't say," he replied, sounding confused.

"Well then, open it! Maybe it'll say who it's from inside."

Jefferson nodded and pulled off the rope tied around the box. It hardly added to the mess as it fell to the ground, unnoticed. Everyone was staring at the ugly, tiny, dirty brown box as Jefferson opened it and pulled out a small note scribbled on a piece of parchment.

Jefferson read aloud, "Happy birthday, my favorite subject."

There was dead silence as Jefferson took a single tea bag out of the box.

Hamilton was the first to speak, laughing hysterically and looking furious at the same time. "THAT LITTLE SH-"

No one heard the rest of his statement and everyone else started either yelling insults or laughing uncontrollably.

King George was either insane or had a great sense of humor.

Probably the former.