My librarian taught me about New Orléans today. Turns out they were under both French and Spanish rule. This also references Lent which is a period of time between Mardi Gras and Easter where people of the Christian faith give up something they like, some people fast.
"Why can't you and France come over today? Lent is about to start, and you know my bruder, he'll probably make me give up being awesome! Please come over!" Prussia whined into the phone.
"Mi amigo, it's Fat Tuesday today I like everyone else have things to do for Lent. Just go see America, I know his country has a large celebration going on today, there could be beer involved." Spain answered knowing the idea of beer would get the Prussian off the couch and off his back. With a loud click Prussia hung up the phone. Spain sighed and looked at his reflection in the full length mirror in his room. He smiled at the dashing matador he saw. He picked up his phone and dialed Frances number.
"Are we still on for today, mi amigo?" Spain asked knowing the answer.
"Oui mon ami, just like every year, I wouldn't miss this for anything!" France answered smoothing out his mint green coat. Anyone seeing him would think he was a pirate, but he knew that where they were going everyone would notice the French aristocratic uniform so popular among his people back in the day."Just so you know Prussia wanted to go drinking with us. You'll have to miss that." Spain stated checking his jacket for any wrinkles.
"Glad to, we can go drinking next week, Mardi Gras is today and today only." France said quite pleased with his look. He threw a large grey trench coat on over the outfit and tied his hair back in a pony tail. Quickly disguising himself with sunglasses and a fedora. "Meet you there!" France said closing his phone. There was no need to say where they were going, both knew quite well.
One long plane flight later and France met with his friend on an empty street. They merely made eye contact and then walked into a nearly empty restaurant.
"Nothing's changed in years," Spain said reminiscently staring out the window.
"Si, mi amigo, nothing," Spain answered "Same plan as last year?" he asked knowing the answer.
"Oui, same plan, brought your jousting sword?" France answered.
"Like I'd forget it," Spain answered "Shall we go?"
"Oui,"
The two stood still in disguise in a crowded park, they slowly inched toward the concrete stage in the park.
The two stood back to back on the stage slowly drawing everyones attention.
"Bonjour, mes amis!" France announced.
"Si, Hola!" Spain called. By now they had the entire crowds attention. There eyes met and they dropped their coats and hats. The crowd gasped.
"Mes amis," France started "my name is France, at this point in history I ruled New Orleans, keeping the tradition of Mardi Gras alive and well for centuries to come. But, my friend Spain here was jealous, he as you know fought me for my dear New Orleans here. Let's see how this story unfolds."
"And the centuries long tradition continues mon ami," France announced drawing a jousting sword.
"So it does mi amigo," Spain replied drawing his sword.
Swords met in a graceful tango, feet danced as if performing a waltz. The fight went on for what seemed like hours before Spain landed a stage hit on France causing him to fake injury.
"And so I won Nueva Orleáns from mi amigo France." Spain said triumphantly.
"Oui," France replied "and Spain here banned Mardi Gras for years to come, attempting to kill off any French influence I left behind."