Woot! Woot! Story #3 is here! I was half asleep when I thought of this, and for some reason, it sounded like the funniest thing in the world at the time. I dunno, I thought you guys might find this amusing.
I don't own Hetalia!
It was an abomination. No normal hair should defy gravity like that stubborn cowlick atop America's head. Yet, there it sat, stubborn as ever. America had taken a liking to it, and affectionately named it Nantucket. England snorted at such nonsense. He remembered all the times in America's colonial days where he would waste hours trying to tame that one piece of hair. England even jokingly thought that all of America's rebellious behavior stemmed from that cowlick. It was always there. Always mocking him at its refusal to lie down with the rest of his hair. Well, no more.
It was an odd meeting to say the least. Everyone seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood. No fights had yet to break out, and everyone was milling about. The only ones that seemed upset about this were Germany and England. Germany because this was proving to be a waste of time, yet again. He tried to rein in everyone when they started to converse and laugh, but they just shrugged it off as Germany being Germany. The German guess that exploding too often had caused people to ignore his outburst of trying to get the meeting started.
England, on the other hand, ignored everything and everyone around him. His gaze was solely focused on that stubborn cowlick. America, who was talking to Prussia and Denmark, hadn't noticed the brit as he laughed at some joke. Today was the day. Today that piece of hair's rebellious streak ended. He had made preparations for it and everything.
"Bonjour, Angleterre! You seem to have taken a fancy to our favorite Américain today. Have you finally come to terms with your sexual urges?" France said sliding up to England.
"Piss off, frog! It's nothing like that!" England yelled, taking his gaze off of the cowlick to look at France.
"So why have you been staring at him almost non stop?" France said with a knowing smile that made England's blood boil.
"If you must know, I was staring at his cowlick." England grumbled.
"At his cowlick?... Ohonhonhonhon! And you get onto me for being perverted! England you naughty boy!" France said with a gleam in his eyes.
"Get your mind out of the gutter! I wasn't thinking of anything like that!" England yelled, absolutely appalled at the Frenchman.
"You do know that that is his erogenous zone, right?" France asked, the perverted gleam never once leaving his eyes.
"Not for long it isn't!" And with that England stood up.
His sudden movement gathered the attention of a few, but his mind wasn't on them at the moment. They watched as he strolled up to America while grabbing something inside of his coat. The American was too enthralled at Denmark's story to notice England's approach. Prussia saw him, but said nothing. He wanted to see what the brit had planned. England stood right next to the oblivious America, and pulled out a pair of scissors. More countries were watching now, wondering just what he was up to. England stood on his tip toes, and snipped off Nantucket.
The previously joyous room fell silent, and every eye was on the two blond nations. America turned to England with wide, confused eyes, and England looked smug. He got the better of that stubborn hair at last.
"E-England? What..." America asked.
"I finally got rid of that stubborn cowlick! That's what I did!" England said, more that please with himself.
Ping!
The entire room jumped in surprise as a second Nantucket took the place of its fallen brother. England gaped, and America poked the new hair in confusions, and amazement. England growled, and snipped off the new Nantucket.
Ping!
Another one immediately took its place. England's glare intensified. This meant war!
Snip!
Ping!
Snip!
Ping!
Snip!
Ping!
"England, dude! Knock it off!" America grabbed the scissors from England's grip, and tossed them to the floor.
"I need to get rid of the root! It's the only way!" England was reaching for Nantucket, but France pulled him back.
"Mon Dieu! What has gotten into you! You can't just go messing around with other people's erogenous zones! That is nothing short of abuse!" France cried out while holding the struggling island nation.
"Get your hands off me! That damned strand of hair has caused me enough headaches! It must die!" England would not let a hair beat him in a battle of wills.
"Iggy! Calm down, bro!" America said trying to get the Englishman to chill.
All of the nations watched the three in fascination. America's cowlick had the ability to instantly regenerate. Who knew? This of course, got some of the others to wonder about everyone else's hair things.
Italy grabbed the scissors, and stared at them curiously. He hesitantly opened them before cutting off his own hair curl. The attention shifted from the blond nations to the Italian. Even England looked at him in surprise.
"Fratello! Just what do you think you're doing?!" Romano yelled, and snatched the scissors away.
Ping!
Just like America's cowlick, Italy's curl instantly grew back. Everyone's gaze switched from the curl to the cowlick and back.
"Look! My curl is just like America's! It can grow back!" Italy looked very excited at this new development.
"I see that." Romano said, almost at a loss for words.
"Cut yours off! See if it'll grow back!" Italy encouraged his brother.
"Hell no! I'm not cutting it off!" Romano yelled.
"But I want to see if it's like mine and America's." Italy pouted.
"Snip off the piano bastard's or something! I'm not letting anyone-"
Snip!
Romano was cut off at the sound of scissors being close to his face. He turned to see Spain with a pair of his own scissors.
"SPAIN YOU TOMATO EATING BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU?!" Romano was red faced, and punched the Spaniard.
"I was just curious, Lovi! I didn't mean any harm by it!" Spain defended as he dropped his scissors. Romano was so focused on beating up Spain that he didn't notice his curl grow back.
This made everyone's curiosity grow even more, and soon all the nations with a weird hair piece had snipped it off only for it to grow back seconds later. Italy had cut off his curl several times and taped the discarded ones to his face.
"Italy, what do you think you're doing?" Germany asked with a tired sigh. This day had been anything but productive.
"I'm a kitty cat! Can't you see my whiskers?" Italy asked getting the attention of Greece.
"A cat you say? Can I borrow some of your left over curls to get whiskers of my own?" Greece asked, and Italy was more than happy to oblige.
This of course gave America an idea. He grabbed two discarded Nantuckets, and taped them to his upper lip.
"Hey, Prussia! Denmark! Look at my awesome mustache!" America yelled.
"It looks good on you!" Denmark laughed, and Prussia looked on with a large smirk.
"I have an even awesomer idea!" Prussia said. He gathered the rest of the snipped off cowlicks, and taped them above America's eyebrows.
"Oh my god! He looks like England now!" Denmark yelled, causing surrounding nations to look and laugh at their shenanigans.
England, however, sighed deeply, and put his face in his hands. That bloody hair had won once again. And now there were nations playing arts and crafts with discarded hair because of it. He was so sure he had it this time. He glared at the offending hair resting atop America's head, and growled softly. Next time, he would win. He would make sure of it!
