Close Call
"I declare war!" The small nation popped up from behind the couch, scaring a -now covered in Earl Grey - Arthur who was watching the news.
"Bloody - for the last time, stop coming out of nowhere! Now I have to change." The man took his cup into the kitchen, with the child following close at hand.
"My offer still stands! If I win, I don't have curfew anymore!"
Arthur gave up on fixing himself a new cup to butt into the declaration. "And what do I get?"
Peter stared at his older brother in confusion. "What the bloody hell are y-"
"-Language, Peter. I mean what do I get if I win?" The child hummed and hawed until he could tell that Arthur was becoming quickly annoyed. "Ah, I've got it! If you win - which you won't - you shall receive a crisp high five!"
Arthur was sure he had heard that phrase from somewhere - wait a minute, how, when, why was Sealand watching -
"Alright, it's a deal! Come sit down and I'll show you how it works!" Peter had already shaken his heavily-browed brother's hand and was dragging him to the dining room table before Arthur could finish his train of thought.
Sealand's hand slammed down on the table as he sat on his knees in the chair across from his brother's. "When I say go, we try and put the other's hand down on the table, and whoever does that first wins!"
Wait a minute.
"...Peter, did you just challenge me to an arm war?"
"Yeah! America taught me the other day!" Ever the boaster, he added, "I won an ice cream from him, and it was only my first time playing!"
How did he never teach his younger brother about arm wars? The thought struck Arthur like a lightning bolt, and with it came an idea.
He sat up straighter. Why not? He and Sealand weren't as close as they were before, with England along with his meetings and paperwork to blame.
"I'll have to warn you, I'm much better than America. In fact, I taught him everything I know about arm wrestling."
Peter was more than excited about this, he was practically jumping out of his seat. "That doesn't scare me! Let's do it!"
Their hands linked. Peter's eyes showed his determination.
"Go!"
Arthur's hand slammed into the table, with Arthur showing a face of shock. "How did you-"
Peter's hands shot into the air. "I won! I won! In your face, England! The Principality of Sealand has won!" Jumping up and down, and now a kid with no curfew, he rushed into the spare bedroom to complete the victory jumps on the bed, leaving behind an Englishman slumped in the chair.
"How the..."
Sealand was supposed to win, yes. But it was supposed to be a close call. So what the hell was that...?