Hey guys! It's me, Anna, again! I was supposedly doing this with TwistedHumor, but she got a little busy in the middle of writing it so I'm doing the story by myself instead. I have wanted to write this for ages, in fact, ever since I became obsessed with Hetalia (half a year ago?).

There's one thing you need to know about me: I do not support yaoi or yuri. I don't know why...while everyone is talking about chemistry between Us & Uk, I only see a strong bromance. The thought of sexual relationships between two guys/two girls just makes me uncomfortable somehow. So if you're disappointed, don't read this story.

Disclaimer: It's obvious I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters, OR the picture, so I'm only putting this on once.

I'll be doing almost all the POVs. This chapter is a little short, but the rest will be longer, I promise (and hope).

Thank you for reading this awfully long A/N, please check out TwistedHumor510's stories, and enjoy! ^.^

x America x

"BRITAIN TOTALLY GOT A STAR STUCK IN HIS HEAD THAT'S BADASS!"

-America

"AMERICA YOU BLOODY GIT!" England roared as he stormed into his parlor. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY TEA SET?"

The American was currently standing over a shattered pile of porcelain tea cups, plates, and a few silver spoons.

"Uh, dude, don't look at me like that," America said nervously, holding up his hands. "Seriously, it's not my fault!"

"It's not your fault?" England's anger flared. "You're standing over my best collection, specially imported from Britain!"

"Come on, just hear me out!"

England waited, still fuming silently.

"You see, um...I was looking for a place to practice," America explained hurriedly. "France was in the bedroom upstairs doing who-knows-what with the...the dude who's name starts with C, Russia had locked China up in the library, and those Axis guys had taken up the rest of the place. And yeah, you were in the kitchen making your tasteless scones so where else was I s'pposed to go?

"My scones are NOT tasteless!" England objected. "And you still haven't explained to me just how my tea set ended up on the floor?"

"Well, I was working on my epic backflips-"

"YOU WERE DOING BACKFLIPS IN MY PARLOR?"

"Um...sure..."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BLOODY MIND? DO YOU EVEN HAVE ONE?"

"I do have a brain! Okay, so I might be 23rd in the world intelligence ranking, but at least I don't dream about unicorns and flying mint bunnies!"

"Are you implying something about my mental stability?"

"No! Dude, just calm down. I'll pay for damage, okay?"

England's face returned to its normal color, which relieved America. It would've been totally annoying if there was a repeat of the Busby's Chair incident, and a waste of chairs. Last time the cursed chair had interrupted the middle of what could've been a totally awesome victory against the Axis powers. Then again, so had the weird guy who appeared out of nowhere. In the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

England crossed his arms, his emerald green eyes still burning slightly. "Hmph. You have to remember you're still in debt, America. Are you sure you don't need any assistance?"

"You don't have to worry about me!" He picked up his bomber jacket and slipped it on.

"I'm not worried about you!" England said. America thought he saw a hint of red on England's cheeks. Blushing, huh? He was so telling France.

No, wait. On a second thought, never mind. He was just going to evoke more dirty thoughts in France's mind. As if it wasn't perverted enough.

"Alright, then!" America said loudly. "I'm feeling hungry, so I think I'll go make some hamburgers. See ya, dude!"

He ran out of there as fast as he could, while England yelled behind him, "Wait! You have to clean up the mess first! Get back here!"

The Olympics from four years ago was one of the most embarrassing events in his life. He'd actually lost to China. China! Sure, the guy had mad kung fu skills, but that was no excuse for a hero to suffer defeat. America was sure it was some misunderstanding, so he was determined not to lose this year.

Last time's Opening Ceremony was full of LED lights. He wondered what England would do this year: fairies and angels? Probably.

He opened England's fridge out of curiosity and found...scones.

There were scones on the fridge wall, scones on the top shelf, and scones on the bottom shelf. The only part not dominated by English pastries was the middle, where leftover fish and chips stored in plastic Tupperware sat next to a small bottle of milk and a pitcher of tea.

Just the sight of the scones made America gag. He quickly closed the fridge and dug out a fairly warm hamburger, his favorite comfort food.

Munching on it, he walked out of England's kitchen (which apparently reeked of scones too)and bumped into Japan, who was carrying some bags of groceries.

"Yo, Japan!" America said cheerfully, through bites. "'Sup?"

"Pureased to meet you, Mr. America," Japan greeted him, bowing formally, as if they'd just met, even though they'd already seen each other half an hour ago. "How are you faring in your Orympics training?"

"I'm the hero; of course it's going pretty awesome!" America said, stuffing the rest of his hamburger in his mouth.

"That is nice to hear. I'm going to Mr. England's kitchen to make some nikujaga for runch now. Good ruck."

"You too!" America called, as Japan entered the kitchen.

Man, that guy is so damn serious! America thought. I wonder if he ever loosens up?

He walked down the hallway, aiming for the living room. Maybe, just maybe, he could practice his shooting skills there. It was the first event, anyway.

Fortunately, Germany was already gone, along with his lapdog Italy. Even if they were here there would be space, but three was a crowd, right?

America brought out his pistol, filled with rubber bullets, and the few scones he had stolen from England's kitchen and looked around for place to put the scones. On the TV would be impossible, because of that portrait of King George III that England liked so much, although America thought George Washingtonwas way more badass. There was the table, since his rubber bullets (probably)would just bounce off the wall harmlessly. But then there was also the flowerpot on the table.

In the end he decided to open the window and place the scones on the window sill. Imagining the scones was England's face, he aimed, fired...and missed.

The bullet zinged out the window and smashed England's small glass fairy to pieces.

Ah, shit, America thought. The dude's gonna kill me.

"America!" England's voice called. "Where are you? Everyone's already gathered for lunch in the dining room."

"Um, I'll be there in a sec!" America called back. He stuffed the scones under the sofa, jumped out the window and hid the broken statue in England's rose bushes.

"AMERICA! Just what are you up to again?"

"Comin'!" He jumped back inside, closed the window, and raced to the dining room.

"So, what's for lunch?" America said, before England could ask him what took him so long. He plopped down in the seat next to France (just to get away from that creep Russia), then changed his mind and moved next to China instead. France's hands loved to go exploring; America had learned that the hard way.

"Italy and Japan are making for it for us, aru," China said. "It's going to be delicious, though not as delicious as my wonton mien."

"And by the way, frog, you left your underwear on my bed," England remarked, as Japan rushed out with his beef stew. "It's the Hello Kitty one, I suppose."

"Did you have to say that in front of everyone?" France complained, and sniffed. "You have ruined what could've been a lovely romantic luncheon!"

"Well, I'mnot the one with the misplaced underwear," England pointed out. Italy came out of the kitchen with a huge pot of pasta."What was it doing there in the first place?"

America glanced around, and finally caught sight of his twin brother, whose name was...Canadia? Yeah, that was probably it.

Canadia looked absolutely freaked out. As in I-just-ate-one-of-England's-scones freaked. As in the-world-has-run-out-of-hamburgers freaked. No, maybe not that freaked. If that really happened, England would say he loved France.

Canadia said something, but of course no one heard him. So Canadia remained invisible. America wondered what the French fry had done to him. Ugh...the mental images were rolling in.

"I was teaching Canada (so that was his name, America thought)the beauty of the human body, oui," France sniffed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I shall be going upstairs to retrieve my belonging."

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of Germany's voice: "Hey, Italy! ITALY! WATCH THAT POT-"

Italy stopped looking at France and noticed that the huge pot of pasta he'd placed clumsily on the table was tipping forwards. Before he could do anything, the contents spilled out onto the floor in one big mess.

Yup, it was another peaceful day with the countries.

Meh, this one didn't have much to do with the Hetalympics. It's more of a prologue. Thanks for reading, and REVIEW PLEASE! XD You'll make my day. :)

Love,

~Anna~