The Cooking Contest
By SaneXLunatic
I don't own Hetalia or any of the countries mentioned here.
Warnings: Some cuss words, some gropin' 'ere and there, Finland's weird names and England's holy – ahem, not so holy yet justified (?) – wrath.
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Location – England's kitchen – Nations Present – America, Canada, England
"Euh…" Canada stared down at a plate of charred… something and poked timidly at it with his fork, staring at America with a look that said 'you really ate this shit for how long exactly?!'. America did the same, grunting complaints under his breath.
England turned around with a slight frown, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a black and white apron America had bestowed upon him when told he had to 'apologize just so he wouldn't get too mad at you etc etc etc.'.
"There something wrong with it?" He asked, frown deepening. Canada, much too polite to actually say anything, shook his head quickly and pretended he was eating it.
"Non, non, it's actually… good…" America, who was less than tactful and very hungry and upset that he'd been denied his usual hamburgers and milkshake, stood up and pointed accusingly at the plate of Charred Something.
"Yes, everything's wrong with it, Artie! It's burnt, it's disgusting, it's very, very hard to get past your teeth, it's too bland, it's – ohhh, fuck…." While he was talking, England's impressive eyebrows slowly met to form a very strange looking unibrow in the middle of his forehead.
"What are you saying?" He demanded in a very quiet voice, something America knew was not good, especially if it was about his cooking. Canada muttered a curse under his breath.
"I-I-I mean, it w-w-was fine, it j-just needed more s-salt…" America trailed off as England raised the ladle he was holding and brought it down hard on the American's head.
"OW!"
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Location – France's garden – Nations Present – America, Canada, France
"What 'appened next?" France asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling slightly at America's woeful tale of How He Got The Bump On His Head.
"And then he hit me!" The superpower whined, sticking out his lower lip piteously. France laughed and pulled Canada into his lap, shaking his head at the same time.
"Hey! That's not funny!" France stopped laughing when he saw the murderous look America was giving him.
"Alright, alright, so it wasn't, cher. Of course 'e would be mad at you. You know how 'e is." "But I was just telling the truth!" America whined again.
France shook his head again. "Cher, you 'ave to understand 'e is touchy about 'is cooking." "But-!" The Frenchman just waved him off.
"But nothing, cher. Just watch what you say to 'im." Canada nodded slowly, then squeaked when one of France's hands began to slide under his shirt.
"Lay off my bro!" He raised his hands in defeat, muttering something in French. They were quiet for a while, and then Canada spoke up.
"I've got a plan." He said, and America and France's heads whipped around to face him. The Canadian laughed. "And? What is the amazing plan 'atched up from my amazing Kana's brain?"
America scowled at France, then looked back at his brother. "Well, y' gotta tell us sometime, bro." "We could have a cooking contest to prove-" he made air quotation marks; "'nicely' that his cooking is bad."
France turned the idea over for a minute. "That's a good idea, cher. But do you think 'e'll get the message?"
Canada nodded. "Yes, I'm sure he will." France grinned and slid his hand under Canada's shirt again. "That's awesome, bro! We can totally save the world from Iggy's disgusting cooki – I TOLD YOU TO LAY THE FUCK OFF MY BRO!"
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Location – China's house – Nations Present – America, Canada, France, Russia, China
"A cooking contest, aru yo?" America nodded eagerly, and China put a slender finger on his bottom lip, thinking.
"Will you pay your debt to me, aru ka?" America scowled at him. "Hey!" "No? Well…" He turned to Russia, and the silver haired man half shrugged.
"It would still be fun to watch England in pain after we've proven it to him, da." He said, a saccharine smile upon his lips.
Canada shuddered and nearly went invisible, but Russia just 'ufu~'ed at everyone and waved a gloved hand goodbye. "I really must be leaving, my boss will be looking for me. I'll see you tonight, Xiao-Yao."
He pressed a kiss to China's forehead, causing the smaller to blush and France to giggle lecherously, and left. America poked China's shoulder. "Well?"
The older nation sighed and let his shoulders drop in defeat, but he was smiling under his careless façade. "Oh, alright aru!" "Aw, that's great China, you're an awesome dude."
America, who'd been pouting like a kicked puppy at him, grinned immediately and thumped the long-haired nation on the back. "Now we just need to get some other peeps to join us and show off their awesome cookin'!"
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Location – Sealand – Nations Present – America, France, Latvia, Sealand
"A cooking contest desu yo?" Eyebrows nearly identical to England's raised, and Latvia nodded shakily. "Y-yes, to prove that England's cooking is b-bad…"
Sealand grinned widely and nodded. "Of course I'll let you use my place for the contest desu yo! Anything to see Jerkland* suffer-des'yo!" "That's great!"
America grinned enthusiastically and clapped his hands, but Sealand held up a paper that looked almost like a contract. "But there's a catch desu-yo!"
"…huh?" Sealand rolled his eyes and showed America the paper. He read it quickly.
By signing this you, [ ], do agree to recognize Sea-kun as a country.
You will also come and help Sea-kun when he calls, because Sea-kun is just awesome like that.
Sea-kun will reward your graciousness (if you do so…) with his amazing presence.
Bow before him, biyotches!
Signature –[ _][_]
"WHAT?!" Sealand grinned deviously and waved the paper in America's face. "We~ll? No one else is willing to help you with a place for the contest desu yo~!"
America sighed and pulled a pen out of his pocket. "Fine, damnit, but if you call me it'd better be for something good!"
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