***I do not own this cast of characters EXCEPT for Rawlder and Wyatt, but other than that the characters don't belong to me. This was just made for fun***

I don't own Frickers, I don't own I-Phone/Apple, I don't own anything in this story except for the writing itself.

I don't endorse/not endorse prank calls. This story does not reflect my personal preferences (maybe I support prank calls, maybe I don't, that's up to you to decide) and it is just a story about two Hetalia characters. And I probably have to add in something that EVERYONE WHO READS HETALIA (should) KNOW: HIDEKAZ HIMURAYA IS THE PROPER OWNER OF HETALIA.

But I do have one question: Does anybody even read these things or are they just IN CASE that there is that RARE POSSIBILITY of somebody reporting you. I don't believe in disclaimers for fanfics. I just...just don't.

I just noticed a pair of scissors on my desk from Ikea. Very ironic.

How fun.

Sweden was walking down the street with his wife, Finland, after a world meeting at America's place. Finland was laughing about a prank call that Denmark had made and was filling Sweden in on the details of how Denmark tried to convince one of Iceland's annoying friends that it was a sex line and that he was after the 50$ charge.

"So," Sweden said, listening to Finland talk about Denmark's call, "W'nt t' make on' 'f our 'wn?"

"W-wwhat?" Finland stuttered, taking Sweden's question in the wrong context. "Y-y-you know, uh, I don't-"

"Pr'nk c'll." Sweden grunted, pulling out his top-of-the-line I-Phone and pulling up a Safari page. "N't ch'd."

"Ooh, ok." Finland smiled up at Sweden and looked at the page. "Who are we gonna call, Su-San?"

"Fr'ck'rs," Sweden muttered, referencing to a restaurant that Alfred had insisted on taking everybody to. Personally Sweden thought that England's cooking was better by the long shot, but he hadn't wanted to be rude and instead shut up and ate as much food as he thought was scraping the polite expectations.

"That place was bad, wasn't it, Su-San?" Finland quivered, hoping that Sweden hadn't found the food beautifully delicious or anything like that. He didn't want to upset Sweden ever.

"Ja," Sweden said, calling the first Frickers that was listed. They heard a few rings before somebody picked up.

"'Ello this is Erik at Frickers how may I help you?" a scratchy adolescent voice came on the phone. Berwald shoved the phone at Tino. Tino made careful not to drop it and answered it.

"Yes? This is Tino speaking." Tino said, not all that experienced at prank calls. Normally it was Denmark who forced everybody around the dining room table while he made hilarious prank calls. Tino had picked up a few pointers but this was his first REAL prank call.

"Yeah. Big deal. This is Erik. What do you want?" the boy was beginning to get pushy. Tino decided that he really didn't like the boy.

"Um, do you have any, er, burgers?" Tino was trying to think of commonplace American food, and burgers were perfect. Every five seconds Alfred was shoving them in his mouth, so they had to be pretty archetypal American food, right? Right?

"Duh. We're the burger capital of wherever, man."

"I thought that was McDonalds?"

"You just wanna go to McDonalds? Fine."

"No, I just want a burger." Tino said, beginning to get frustrated at the boy on the other end of the phone. If somebody else were in his place, say Estonia, he would be all over the little boy, since Erik sounded only about seventeen. Not too old, and not too old for Estonia. Eighteen was too old for Estonia. He was 19. Only Shaq pushed the limits of Estonia's preferences in dating partners. (see the Shaq x Estonia fiction to understand this)

"Ok, we have the Big Frick. You want that?" Erik said as if he had better things to do than going to work.

"Sure."

"How do want that cooked?"

"Uh," Tino looked over at Berwald, who pointed to his, uh, crotch in response. "Well done?" Berwald nodded and smirked a bit before mouthing more to Tino, who chuckled nervously. "And make it burnt, no, no, um, very well done, but not like a hockey puck, I don't want to eat a hockey puck, but it needs to be very well done."

"So basically charred?" Erik asked, and Tino could hear the flipping of a magazine. So that's what this kid was doing?

"Yeah, and could I just have the patty? "

"Beg your pardon?"

"Just the patty. I just want the meat part."

"Ok, you want any condiments on it, then?"

"Erm," Tino paused again before glancing over at Berwald. Berwald again pointed to his crotch and smirked. Tino blushed and was wondering where he was going with this and decided to have to boy list off the condiments so that he could clarify with Berwald.

"We have ranch, tomatoes, pickles, mayo, mustard, ketchup, onions, cheese, and bacon," the kid listed off, yawning. "What'cha want?"

When Erik said 'pickles' Berwald raised his eyebrows at Tino, who then took the cue.

"Pickles." Tino said, wishing he could have made it funnier. Then he remembered something Denmark had done. "Wait, cut into the shapes of stars."

"Stars?" Erik said, almost as if in disbelief. "Like the shape?"

"Yeah. Can't you do that?" Tino muttered, hoping this would go as well if not better than the one Denmark had done. Tino had pissed his pants that call was so funny.

"Um, we don't have star cutting things here," Erik said, wondering if this guy was joking or just retarded. This was a first for him.

"Can't you just use like a knife and cut them into the shape of stars? If they're not in the shapes of stars then I won't even look at it." Tino tried to act stubborn and was trying to remember what else Denmark had said. He had improvised the 'won't look at it' part himself, but the star part was all Denmark's thinking. And who knows where Denmark had gotten it.

"Yeah, like I have the time to do that," Erik said, and Tino heard the magazine crinkling in the background again.

"Ok, well then can I just bring in my machete and cut them myself?" Tino said, replacing Denmark's 'axe' with 'machete'. Machete just seemed more amusing than saying axe.

"Sure, bud, do whatever you want," Erik said, "You want anything else with this order?"

"No, that's it," Tino said, looking at Berwald again. "But my friend would like to order something,"

Tino shoved the phone in Berwald's hands and Berwald held it out since it was already on speakerphone.

"What do you want?" Erik said rudely, just hoping that the dudes ordering the food would just get it over with already.

"B'rger," Berwald said, not going to make his section of the call longer than Tino's since they were almost back to the hotel already.

"Big Frick Burger?" Erik said, not quite able to understand what the man was saying."

"Ja,"

"How do you want that cooked?"

"R're. L'ke bl'dy st'll, if ya got 't."

"We can't make it bloody, if that's what you said. I can't tell if it's your connection or what, but it's kind of hard to understand you. But we can make it medium-rare, if that's what you want. We can't make it bloody though 'cause you might get sick,"

"'K," Berwald said, trying to figure out what to say about the condiments.

"And any condiments?"

"Condom-mints?"

"Pardon?"

"D'd ya j'st 'ay condom-mints?"

"No, not 'condom-mints'. That would be pretty frickin' disgusting. Condiments. Like stuff you put on your food. We've got mustard, ketchup, pickles, ranch, mayo, onions, tomato, and whatever else I offered your friend,"

"'M wife," Berwald said, anxious to hear Erik's response.

"Wait. That's your wife?" Erik asked, thinking that the other person was a dude. Turns out it was a chick. Eh, whaddya know? "Ok, what do you want on your burger?"

"N'thin'." Berwald said, ready to check out the order.

"And do you want anything else?" Erik said, praying that the couple would just say no.

"Nope." Tino took the phone again carefully from Berwald's callused hands.

"Ok, that'll be $11.50." Erik said, handing off the order to the passing waitress who he had the hots for. She glared at him and huffed a little bit, causing Erik's morale to go down even further. "And what's the name for the order?"

"Berwald." Tino said happily, always loving how it felt to say Sweden's name.

"Oswald?"

"Berwald."

"Gerald?"

"B-E-R-W-A-L-D."

"Edward?"

"B as in Bob, E as in Edgar, R as in Rawlder, W as in Wyatt, A as in Alice, L as in Lowell, D as in Duck,"

"Oh. Berwald," Erick said, saying it like bear-weld. "Ok."

Berwald blushed when he heard Tino spell out his name. He loved his wife, and loved it even more when his wife had to say his name over and over. It reminded him of, well, 'stuff'.

"Your food will be ready in seventeen minutes," Erik said.

"Ok, bye!" Tino said,

"Oj," Berwald said, and after hearing Erik hang up put the phone back in his pocket. The two countries walked into the hotel lobby and stood in the elevator, waiting to get to the third floor.

"Thank God that's over," Finland said, hugging Sweden's side.

"Yeah," Sweden murmured, hugging his wife back. "Good one."

"Oh, one question, though, Su-San." Finland stepped out of the elevator, "What was with the crotch-pointing? And the things you told me..."

"Oh," Sweden said, walking up to the hotel room and swiping the key card, "You'll see,"

Sweden picked Finland up bridal-style and the two "got down to business" in the hotel room.

THE END