Written-in-sand
Who took my ice cream?
I don't own anything, blah, blah, blah. A very short little crackish one shot.
I just found out that Abraham Lincoln loved ice cream, and just had to write something about it. Lame title is lame.
Abraham Lincoln snuck silently down to the White House kitchen to grab a midnight snack. The food there was tested daily, and just before being eaten by the president, so Lincoln didn't worry about that. Tiptoeing towards the icebox, he opened it to search for one of his favorite things to eat- ice cream.
Grabbing the ice cream carton, he opened it, only to find it empty. Lincoln's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Alfred…" he hissed, placing the container back into the icebox.
Morning came, and Alfred, otherwise known as the United States of America, strutted into the room that Lincoln used as an office. Sitting on a chair near Lincoln's desk, he waited for his boss to enter the room. Normally, Lincoln was an early riser, and was usually at his desk by the time America got there. This was not the situation today. However, being the lovable idiot that he was, America didn't take notice of this.
Half an hour later, America still waited for Lincoln to come into the room. Finally noticing that something was wrong, America stepped out of the office and headed down the hall to Lincoln's room. He knocked on his boss's door twice. "Hey, boss, are you alright? You were supposed to get up over half an hour ago!" Hearing nothing, alarm started to take over America. Slowly opening the door, he was greeted with a dark room and a single lamp flickering next to the president's bed. "Hello? Abe, are you all right?" He moved over to the edge of the bed. "Abe…?"
Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him. Barely holding back a squeak of fear, the United States of America cowered beside the bed. "Alfred…" a familiar voice whispered into his ear. "Where is my ice cream?" Not sure whether to be scared or relieved that his boss was fine, America stuttered, "uhh… I kinda ate it…"
"Well, you have to go out and order a new carton of ice cream, because I'm not going to forgive you until you do. Oh, and- here," a bucket of ice water was unexpectedly poured down Alfred's back. "That is for eating the last carton of ice cream!" A brighter lamp was lit, and the heavy curtains in the bedroom were opened. President Lincoln stood above America, smirking. "Oh, and I've hidden all of your extra clothes. No one, even my own country, messes with the last carton of ice cream but me."
And that is how the country of the United States of America ended up walking around in wet clothes all day and having to buy another ice cream carton for the president.
Lol, so how'd you like my first fic? Very crackish, indeed. Sorry for the stupid ending and title. Review please! No flames please, I am new to this.