Disclaimer: I neither own nor have permission to use "Hetalia: Axis Powers" or "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", I do so for entertainment purposes without intent to profit and beg the lawyers not to make an example of me.

Hey, at least I didn't try to make any claims about Anarcho-Syndicalism.

"The Nations of Hetalia and The Holy Grail"
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

The scene is set, a grey-stone castle on a foggy English moor, two soldiers stand guard upon the ramparts, these are Wales and Australia.

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Because the Author's making us, that's it, mate," Australia answered.

"Doesn't he have other things to write? I know people are after him about that X-Men story and the Harry Potter one..."

"I tried to ask him that." The southern hemisphere Nation shrugged.

"Well?" Wales demanded.

Australia growled lowly, "He turned me into a newt."

"A newt?" Wales looked at the distinctly human form of the other Nation in disbelief.

Australia blushed, realising what Wales was implying, "...I got better."

"He turned you into a newt and you got better," Wales deadpanned.

"Oh, look who's talking, Mr. estate agents pronounce it 'Splow'," Australia retorted, "At least I'm famous for more than one city."

"Yeah, you're famous for a bear that's not really a bear and a kickboxing animal," Wales snapped back in response.

Australia frowned, "Did you hear that?"

"At least Cardiff is a cultural icon, known throughout the world," Wales continued, "For your part, people can't think of Sidney without picturing that opera house."

"Would you be quiet?" Australia snapped, "I hear something!"

Now Wales heard it too, "It sounds like... horses?"

"Who would ride a horse in this fog? It could break a leg and then where would you be? On a foggy English moor with a horse with a broken leg, that's where!" Australia commented.

"Hello!" echoed through the fog.

"Oh, look, we're being paged by an idiot," Australia rolled his eyes.

"Be nice," Wales reminded him, "or we might not get another scene in the story."

"You might not," Australia corrected, "I have connections with the author, I can talk to him."

Again the voice called out, "Hello!"

"True," Wales countered, "But I can call upon an angry blonde to smite said author's arse."

"Hell-Oh, for the love of God, would you pay attention and pick up the scene!" The voice shouted in annoyance.

"Should we?"

"Might as well," Australia shrugged, "We can always declare independence later."

"Yeah, and if we won it we'd never hear the end of it from Egypt, India and America."

"Nobody ever hears the end of anything from the United States. If we won, he'd go on about how he was the first part of the Empire to win independence and everyone else just followed in his 'awesomeness'... and if we lost, he'd be on about how he was more 'awesome' than anyone else because he's an independant country and we're Commonwealth nations."

"Sometimes, I can't stand America."

"You think you can't stand him - I'm the one who had to put up with MacArthur during World War Two, how do you think that makes me feel? Going on and on about how he'd be back to the Phillipines all the time... It made me wonder just what their relationship was."

Down on the ground beside the castle walls, a Nation shook his head, "Forget it... Come, Gibraltar!"

And skipping along, England took his leave, the Rock of Gibraltar following behind, clapping two empty halves of coconuts together. It was at that moment that Australia looked over the ramparts.

"Oi! Where'd he go?"