This story in basically an idea I had in my head that I needed to write down. So...hope you enjoy it! Please review! I need them to keep me motivated!
Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia...
"Pizza's here!" Alfred shouted, his voice echoing through the house as he carried the pizza inside.
"We know, I told you to go get it," Arthur reminded his brother once he arrived in the kitchen and set the boxes on the table.
"No, I don't think so. I believed I heroically volunteered to get it, knowing that your flimsy arms would break under the pressure of twelve pizza boxes."
"Ooooo, pizza!" Peter cried happily as he skipped into the room.
"Exactly why did you order twelve extra large boxes, if there are only four of us?"
"Four? Who's the fourth person?" Peter inquired.
"I am," Matthew said, suddenly appearing by the pizza boxes.
"What the? That was so awesome, you have to teach me how to do that one day, dude. That way, I can sneak up on all the villains and defeat them, like us heroes do!" the American exclaimed with his signature smile.
"Okay..."
"You still didn't answer my question, why'd you order so much food?" the Englishman questioned.
"Well, truth be told, I actually forgot about you people and ordered all those pizzas for me. The only reason I even remembered you guys is because the doorbell rang and I realized I needed to ask you for money. So, I quickly ordered ten more pizzas, they should be on their way."
"You ordered twelve pizzas for yourself?" Arthur asked incredulously.
"Yeah, I know right? That's so little, but I've been on a bit of a diet lately." the American replied, patting his stomach.
"So what? Are we just supposed to wait until our pizzas get here?"
"Well, I suppose you can have one of my pizzas since there's more coming, but I get to have five of yours."
"What? How is that even remotely fair?"
"Well, it's fair because- hey, what is he doing?" Alfred asked, pointing to his younger sibling who was dabbing his pizza with a napkin.
"Um... just taking all the grease out of it." Peter explained, as though it was obvious. "Don't you do that?"
"No, I don't ruin my pizza. I actually make it better." The bespeckled man opened the fridge and took out an assortment of ingredients from cheez whiz to a container of grease all the down to whip cream.
"You put grease on pizza?" the Brit questioned, unbelievingly.
"No, don't be ridiculous," the blue-eyed man chuckled, waving off the idea as he put a straw in the grease. "I drink it, duh."
"I thought you said you were on a diet."
"I am, I'm drinking twenty-three ounces of grease, instead of my usual twenty-four. I consider that a significant difference." Alfred explained, putting marshmallows and cheetos on his pizza.
"Ugh, now that is disgusting," the Canadian interjected looking at the American revolted, as poured maple syrup on his pizza slice.
"How'd you even fit all those toppings in the fridge? You took out, like seventy of them?" Peter asked his brother who was still taking out ingredients.
"I just took out all the nasty stuff. You know, broccoli, lettuce, Arthur's crumpets, anything green really."
"What? I'll have you know that my crumpets are divine. They were simply green because they were done maturing and were ripe and ready to eat," the Englishman argued.
"How can a dish that you've cooked still grow?" the youngest boy inquired.
"That just proves how little you know about cooking," the Brit said, shaking his head.
"What? That st-" Peter began, but Alfred quickly grabbed him, covered his mouth, and whispered to him, "Stop talking. If you keeps asking him about it, he'll feel like he'll need to show it to us by cooking something and none of us want that. Agreed?" the little boy nodded his head, and the dirty blond let him go.
*Ding Dong* *Ding Dong*
"Pizza's here!" the bespeckled man cried, going to answer the door.
"Didn't you order that pizza like five minutes ago? How'd it get here so fast?" the Brit asked the blue-eyed man when he returned with more pizza boxes.
"Cause I ordered theses like five minutes after my first order. They first twelve were just an appetizer, and I figured that I would be done with those by the time that these arrived." Alfred explained, taking a slice of pizza.
"But you didn't finish the other twelve."
"Yes I did. Those things are empty," the American pointing at the supposedly vacant pizza boxes.
"Then I guess you wouldn't mind if I check then." The Englishman opened all twelve pizza boxes and sure enough they were all empty. "How? You were here the whole time, I saw you eat only one slice."
"Silly brother," the taller man chuckled, taking another slice of pizza. "Only saw me eat slice of pizza."
"But we did. You only ate one slice, I mean, we were here the whole time. I think we would have seen take you another piece of pizza, " Peter rationalized. The American dropped his pizza and looked at his brother irritated. "Well, obviously I did otherwise those boxes would still be full, wouldn't they? I mean, honestly Peter, think before you speak! You know what? I can't take it anymore, I'm going upstairs to eat my pizzas in my room where I don't have to hear such dumb things," the dirty blond took the rest of his pizza boxes and went to his room.
"We were having a perfectly splendid family dinner Peter, why'd you have to ruin it?" the Brit added, before going up to own room. Matthew just shook his head disapprovingly at his younger sibling, then grabbed the maple syrup and went upstairs.
"What did I do?"