Red Bull
"Mattieeeeee!"
The young Canadian mentally groaned as his brother came running towards him. Just once, couldn't he visit Central Park without running into his idiotic brother? Apparently not.
"What do you want now, Alfred?" Matthew asked once Alfred reached him. Alfred blinked.
"What happened to your bear?" He questioned. Mattie's eyes narrowed.
"Kumajika stayed home for the day," Mattie said, "If he can't fucking remember my name then why should I take him out?" Alfred resisted the urge to brofist his brother for finally growing some balls.
"So, what did you have to hunt me down for?" Mattie asked, "I hope you didn't get high on Skittles again." At this, the American nation grinned wickedly.
"Ah my dear Matthew, Skittles are so fifteen hamburgers ago," Alfred said mockingly, "Red Bull is all the rage!" He flashed his carbonated beverage with a sparkling smile. Mattie facepalmed.
"Are you fucking serious? God, you need a hobby," He sighed, "And why the fuck did you chose Red Bull?" In case you didn't notice, Canada (Matthew) was in a cursing mood. Lady GaGa just broke up with him and it wasn't pretty. I guess you could say they had a "Bad Romance" so Mattie showed his "Poker Face" so she called "Alejandro" on her "Telephone" and let them "Dance in the Dark." Eheheheh I'll shut up now…
"Because Mattie," Alfred stated like it was the most obvious thing in the universe, "Red Bull gives you wings."
At this, the few people around the North American brothers, simultaneously rolled their eyes and walked away. Mattie rolled his indigo eyes as well.
"Sure and Sprite turns you into the Hulk." Mattie spat sarcastically.
"Pft no that would've been weird," Alfred said. When Mattie still looked unconvinced, Alfred opened the can, "Look I'll prove it to you!" and he dowsed the drink in one manly gulp.
Almost suddenly, huge white angel wings sprouted from his back. Alfred ascended into the air, "Haha, told you!" and took off, a rainbow following him. No one else seemed too find this occurrence odd.
Matthew rubbed his eyes and blinked, "Okay…no more pot for you, Canada."
Moral of the story: Pot+Crack=LSD
SOMETIMES, I SCARE MYSELF.
NOTHING REALLY NEW UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY PASSES (TUESDAY BETCHES!) SO ENJOY THE CRACK/TROLL FIC UNTIL MY BRAIN RETURNS FROM VACATION :]
Want a trequel? Comment and tell what other food to make fun of (or commercial)
BAI FUR NAO!