Hi, you awesome person! You're so awesome! You wanna know how I know?! It's because you were nice enough to even read this even if I'm an amateur! Anyway, I hope you like this story . . . it's crazy. . . I don't really expect you to think I'm sane after reading this. . . Anyway, on to more important things! After reading, please review. I like it when people review. Don't you! It's like a bottle of instant happiness!
Special thanks to my cousin (For editing and stuff! I love you, cousin) and to a girl who's named after an author (For being my idea-person. I love you too!)
Anyway . . . on with the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own APH.
It was a lovely afternoon in London. It was one of the rare occasions the sun had decided to come out and grace the whole of England with his warm, luminous presence. The pale blue sky was free from those gloom clouds that usually hung over city. It was on days like that that almost everyone in England was in high spirits.
Arthur Kirkland sat on his chair enjoying his afternoon tea while embroidering a pillow case.
It's a brilliant day today. There is nothing that could possibly ruin this absolutely magnificent afternoon
Or so he thought.
It was at that very moment that the doorbell rang. What th-?! Who the bloody hell could that be?!
As Arthur made his way to the door, it opened. How the bloody hell did that just happen? I always keep that bloomin' door locked! So how the bloody he-
He thought was cut off when he saw the blonde man standing at his doorway . . . Oh for God's sake?! Is the bloody universe against me having at least one perfect day to myself?!
"You should really learn to hide your spare key in a more esoteric place, mon cheri."
"What are you doing here, you frog? You've come just to ruin my day, haven't you?"
"Angleterre, you hurt my feelings! Must you always assume that I am here just to bother you?!"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I must. You never fail at ruining a perfectly wonderful day . . . So? How do you plan on ruining my day this time, you bugger?"
"Mon ami, I do not want to ruin your day. In fact, I came here to make it more pleasant! How could you possibly resist spending a day with moi?!"
"Believe me, it isn't really that hard. Now . . . goodbye."
Arthur was closing the door, only to find that he couldn't; Francis had literally made his own foot a doorstop.
"Angleterre! That was so rude of you! You are supposed to be a gentleman, oui?! Are you really just going to shun me even when I've come all this way just to make you even more joyful?! "
"Fine, then. Come in! Just don't bother me."
Francis entered the well furnished house. He had to hand it to Arthur; his house was beautiful. It was very large and elegant in a way, but it still had a touch of coziness to it. Francis found himself staring at its splendor while Arthur walked back to his chair.
After a few moments of silence . . .
"Angleterre!" The sudden noise made Arthur jump thus causing him to involuntarily throw his tea cup in the air.
"You berk! Look what you made me do!"
"I am sorry, Angleterre. I did not mean to startle you."
Arthur gave him an ominous look making anyone less run away in pure terror before finally walking toward a closet where he kept some of his cleaning supplies.
Why?! Why does this always have to happen to me?! That bloody frog makes everything all topsy-turvy ever-bloody-time he comes to visit. I hate that bloody muppet! He made me throw my teacup, my precious teacup, into the air! Queen Elizabeth I had given me that bloody teacup! It was absolutely priceless! She gave me an entire set, of course, but nonetheless, I'm still so bloody upset! Now where are the mop, broom and dustpan when you need them?
He opened the closet door and delved into the closet looking for the mop, broom and dustpan. Darn. Where'd I put those, again?!
Feeling remorseful, Francis made his way toward the closet where Arthur was rummaging for a mop or something. Francis had almost reached the closet when he slipped on the fallen tea and landed on his butt in the cabinet. He grabbed the doorknob for support to get up accidentally closing the door in the process!
"Francis, you bloody berk! Do you realize that this door locks from the outside! Thanks to you, we're stuck in here! Bloody hell! Of all days to be stuck in a closet, it just had to be one of the only day it didn't rain here in my country! Of all the people to be stuck with in a closet, it just had to be you! I hate you, do you know that?! I hate you!"
"Angleterre relax, we will find a way out this closet, oui? We must just stay calm. If we do not, we will lose oxygen more quickly. . ."
"And how do you suppose we are going to find a way out of a closet that locks from the outside?
"Angleterre, you and I have strategized a great deal of battles and you are afraid of a door? Since when have we been afraid of desperate situation, mon cheri? If we think hard enough, surely, we will find a way out . . . "
10 minutes later. . .
"That's it! We are stuck here! Bloody hell! I do NOT want to die with you!"
"Mon cheri, we must continue thinking!"
Arthur paced back and forth in the cramped space thinking about how he might day in a closet with Francis. What if someone found our remains? What would they think?! Every single second he spent thinking about the situation made the images of what would happen at least ten times worse. Then he accidentally kicked a small object.
"What was that?"
"I do not know, mon ami."
Arthur picked up the small object and let out a cry of joy!
"It's my celly! I've been looking for it all week! We can use it to call somebody to come over and unlock the door! We're saved! Thank goodness. . ."
I hope you liked chapter one! They're not going to get out of that closet that easily, you know? I'd never let that happen! It'd be too boring! Chapter 2 is coming soon!
By the way, you might think that I just misspelled 'jerk', I didn't I really meant berk. A berk means a clumsy idiot in British slang.
