((In this fanfiction, I use the character's human names, so if you don't know them, here they are! England = Arthur Kirkland, America = Alfred F. Jones, 2p England = Oliver Kirkland))

It was a Saturday afternoon. The sun had risen to the peak of the sky, and back down again. Arthur Kirkland sat alone on his front porch, newspaper in one hand, a cup of afternoon tea in the other. He had been enjoying a quiet afternoon in the shade, until a sudden commotion caused him to jump, sending the cup of tea crashing to the floor.

"Yo! Arthur! Bro! What're you doing?" Alfred Jones came stampeding up the steps to the porch, carelessly approaching a clearly irritated Arthur. He sighed annoyedly.

"Well, I was enjoying a nice, quiet evening, up until a few seconds ago." Arthur swiftly took hold of the broom that was propped up on the corner of the porch and swept up the shards of the broken tea cup.

"Dude, you're so boring! Do something that isn't completely lame for once!" Alfred laughed good-naturedly as Arthur folded up the newspaper and sat back down in his chair with a sigh.

"Like what? Got any suggestions?" Arthur asked, even though he didn't really care at all. Alfred was about to speak, when they were interrupted by more footsteps approaching. The two looked in the direction in which the sound came from, and saw what looked like a young man with light strawberry-blonde hair, a pink vest with a blue bowtie, and piercing blue eyes. He looked an awful lot like Arthur. He approached with a rather insincere looking smile. Arthur's expression darkened to one of complete distaste. He stood, defensively.

"Oliver. Oliver Kirkland." He scowled. Alfred's reaction was completely different. He was terrible at reading the mood.

"Oh, hey! Are you a friend of Arthur's?" He smiled while waving his arm around in the air in a spastic hello. Oliver stepped up onto the porch, ignoring Arthur's cold stare. He turned to Alfred.

"Why yes! Of course I know my...dear friend Arthur!" He said with a happy voice, holding out his hand to shake hands with Alfred. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Alfred!" Alfred said, firmly shaking hands with Oliver. Oliver smiled a big, fake smile.

"It's wonderful to meet you!" He laughed politely, then fake coughed. "Excuse me, I'm quite parched. Would you mind getting me something to drink?"

Arthur's cold stare didn't break away from Oliver as he spoke.

"Yes, Alfred, would you mind fetching Oliver a cup of tea from the kitchen?"

"Sure!" Alfred swung open the screen door and stepped into Arthur's house. Arthur didn't speak until he was sure Alfred had gone inside. His voice turned as cold as his stare.

"Listen, you." He said to Oliver. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, acting all nice and innocent to Alfred, but it won't work. And I thought I told you never to return here again! You aren't welcome in my house!"

"What? I'm not trying to pull a trick on you, dear Arthur." Oliver said, obviously being sarcastic. He smiled a wicked skeleton grin and his bright blue eyes flickered with insincerity. "I'm just looking to make new friends."

Arthur was about to speak, when Alfred returned with the tea.

"Uh, Arthur? You sure this is tea? It looks like ink!" He exclaimed before handing the tea out to Oliver.

"Oh, actually, look at the time...I really must be going." Oliver said. "Why don't we meet up tomorrow for a little picnic in the park?" He grinned at Alfred and Arthur.

"I dunno, a picnic? Sounds really gay. Can I at least bring some beer or something?" Alfred questioned, putting down the tea.

"Sure, why not. Let's say, four o'clock tomorrow afternoon?" Oliver confirmed. Arthur shot Alfred a sharp and obviously objective glance, but as usual, Alfred didn't listen.

"Sure, we'll see you then." Alfred said before Oliver stepped off the porch and began walking away. Arthur covered his face with the palm of his hand, disappointed with Alfred. He gave an irritated sigh.

Oliver walked away at an even pace, his back turned to the two. He grinned the same eerie skeleton grin.

"By the end of tomorrow, I should have a new batch of cupcakes made." He muttered to himself as his eyes glazed over with a look of insanity. It was at that moment that the sun sank over the horizon, leaving the world enveloped in the black of night. Arthur and Alfred still sat on the porch, and Arthur knew that they were in for a lot of trouble.