disclaimer: nope, nope.
dedication:government class.I LOVE YOU, MADINE.
prompt:Therefore, I'd like to see a fic where Rick Perry gets into office and uses the opportunity to pursue his passionate love of an America who is really very very very much confused as to how the hell Rick Perry got into office because he does not want.
notes1: okay, let's get this straight. this is crack. i'm sorry if i offend anyone in this, "make America OOC" or just fuck over Rick Perry's reputation. seriously. it's a fucking joke. please, don't take it seriously.
notes2: sorry, i had to cover my bases. person on the kink meme just can't take a crackfic…
notes3: I edited my authors notes...because seriously, what the fuck ffnet? and the spanish might be fucked up now (even worse than it was), 'cuz i don't speak spanish and i had to seperate the words...
summary: In which Rick Perry becomes President, America is a Democrat, and, apparently, so is everyone else. Because someone had to do it.
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Rick Perry liked America.
America did not like Rick Perry.
Sure, technically America was supposed to be a Republican, right? After all, most of his country was made of up Republicans.
However, he was not. He was a good ol' Democrat — he hated Republican logic. (Well, technically, he hated politics in general, but especially those damn elephants.) After all, his country was founded on change and liberation, not conserving the bullshit they put up with from the King.
Because he wanted to let same-sexes marry and he wanted to let teenage girls get abortions if they wanted to and he wanted to cut social regulations and damn it all to hell if those stupid Republicans were ruininghisplan.
Not to mention, he absolutely had to attend the stupid inauguration, in freezing ass cold New York — which, seriously, whythehellwasitinNewYork,shouldn't it be in Texas where the fucker came from? — and he had to shake the guy's hand, (it was really, really cold, like he was some freak zombie or a robot in disguise and oh God, it was the Terminator all over again) and he really, really hated all of it.
And, not to mention, Rick Perry was one creepy fucker. Sure, it was better than John McCain's constantly blinking (constantlylying) eyes, John Bayner's constant tearing, and Michelle Bachmann's dead-in-the-head stare off into space, but that smile told America "I'm going to cut your funding, and then I'm going to stab you in the eye".
Needless to say, America was not too fond of Rick Perry.
And today was the first world meeting in which Rick Perry would be inclined (forced) to go with America and present their current plan-of-action, in which America would not have any chance to speak and of course be thought that all these were his ideas.
He hated Rick Perry.
Of course, America had to escort the little Republican, who acted much similar to a recently neutered, extremely curious kitten. Quite frankly, it was pissing him off.
"Whose the new bloke?" England asked him as soon as they had sat down. "I remember you had that nice African fellow last time…"
"African-American," he corrected before sighing. "Yeah, we had a new election, and I got stuck with this dumbass."
"But he had a name like Barack…and anyhow, this is why you should have stayed with the Parliament — "
"The Parliament's just as bad as this fucker, except we elected this guy into office."
"Alright, alright." Germany called the room to order, as he usually did. He seemed particularly irritated today, and he rubbed his temples in order to soothe this irritation. "America had a new election since the last time we have convened, so he goes first today."
Usually, America loved going first. It made him feel special.
However, he was at Rick Perry's side today. This made him feel a little too special. Couldn't some other terrible country go first to make him look not as bad in comparison?
"Alright," Rick Perry said as soon as he was up on the podium, with that creeper smile in place, "well, I suppose I should start off on my foreign policy issue."
"That would probably be best," one of the Italies — South Italy, no doubt — commented, snorting. "What a fuckin' dipshit." Yep, definitely South.
"Shh, brother," Northern Italy said, elbowing his brother in the ribs. "Give him a chance, ve?"
Rick Perry kept the smile in place the whole time, grinning even deeper (even creepier) once he had the chance to speak once more. "Thank you. Anyhow, I plan to increase border patrol along our south-western borders, mainly around Arizona, Texas, and California. We have much too many illegal immigrants flowing in, and I will simply not stand for them to poison our great and beautiful country —"
"Excuse me, señor?"
America winced. Oh, Rick Perry was in for a beating. Big Sister Mexico did not take lightly to slander about her country.
Rick Perry simply blinked. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"
"I am México, and I would appreciate it if — "
"Oh," he said, same backstabbing smile stuck in place, "so you're the filthy country that everyone is fleeing from?"
Everyone in the room became quiet, and stared, wide-eyed at either Rick Perry, Mexico, or another. Mexico's face turned bright, bright pink despite her tan skin, and she went off.
"Usted miente, bastardo mentiroso! ¿Cómo teatreves a hablar de mí de esa manera? ¿Cómo teatreves a hablar de mi paísasí? Que debo cortela garganta y vender sus órganos a los carteles de la droga demi, idiota!"
Rick Perry tilted his head. "I'm sorry, what was that? I only speak English."
She screamed in frustration, then gritted her teeth, smacked her fist hard on the table, and muttered, "You ill-bred, ill-educated tonto. Irmorir." She turned to America for a moment, shaking her head. "I pity that you must let this fool rule you…"
With that, she turned with her fluttering, colorful dress and took off out of the room. With a sigh, Felipe Calderón followed her, but not before giving Rick Perry a cold glare and muttering under his breath, "I liked Señor Obama better…"
As Rick Perry continued on, all of them were giving America cold stares, and he felt like shrinking into the carpet with every word that the little rat spoke. Like, seriously, couldn't he become like Bob in Monster vs Aliens? Ohshit, that would be so badass! Then, he could eat as many hamburgers as he wanted and not get hurt, and he could get squished multiple times without being hurt and DUDE, THAT'S SUCH AN EPIC SUPERHERO.
Finally, Rick Perry was finished, and they returned to their seats. America felt like stabbing Turkey Legs in the neck — or, better, Rick Perry — with every step he took, while Rick Perry continued to smile that asshole smile of his.
England was the only one who wasn't glaring. "Mate," he whispered to America, "that was a terrible performance. Told you that you should've stuck with the Parliament."
"Just let me be Bob," America muttered, before headdesking.
"…Who in the devil is that?"
The flight home on Air Force One was disturbingly awkward. Mainly because Rick Perry kept that creepy as hell rape face on. And was staring at America. Creepily.
"What the fuck is your problem?" America finally blurted out.
"Problem?" Rick Perry replied. "I have no problem."
But of course, as he says this, he moves closer to the nation, which makes said nation want to squirm away in fear of the getting his nasty Republican germs.
And then, and then —
He plucks America's glasses right off his face.
OH FUCK, BRO, ME NO GUSTA. NOT COOL. AH, FUCK, BLIND.
"Hey, give those back!" he shouts, trying to reach for them, but Rick Perry evades him, standing up instead and placing them on. He laughs, and that, too, sounds creepier and rapist-y as fuck.
"How ironic — I'm wearing my own state on my face. Simply marvelous."
"Asshole, give 'em ba — wait, how did you know that was Texas?"
Rick Perry simply smiles, cornering the nation. "Oh, I know everything about you, dear America. I know that your glasses are Texas, just like how I know your eyes are Alaska, and just like how I know this — " and he wraps that cowlick around his finger in a way that is all too uncomfortable — "is Nantucket, and just like how I know this — " and he grabs America's crotch and the blonde is extremely freaked out and just a little turned on — "is Florida."
...that was accurate.WAY TOO ACCURATE.
"Do you happen to stalk me?" America asked blandly.
"Stalking? No, of course not. I prefer to call it…obsessively worshipping."
And that was when America decided to go join the pilot.
"…Will you get out of here? I actually have work to do, you know. You probably do, too. Actually, you most definitely do. Seeing as how you've been here for three years. I'm pretty sure you need to be in your country to govern it."
"But Englandddd," America whined, pulling the puppy dog pout. "That Rick Perry guy is creeeepy. I dun wanna see him."
"Oh, how bad could he possibly be, besides being a biased, Republican wanker?" England rolled his eyes. Honestly, America was probably exaggerating the whole thing and —
"He knew about Florida."
…Okay, that was a little creepy. It was only really nations that had slept with America and carried on a relationship with him long enough to know that his dick was Florida. (Even though it was a bit easy to figure out — the shape itself is shaped like a dick, for God's sake.)
"…How much longer will you be here?" England sighed.
"Just until I hear about a new presidential elect…. Then I'll go back home. Although, I'll probably end up taking a vacation in California until January. Or maybe Arizona, in Phoenix — he would never go there. The heat might just be tolerable in the wintertime…"
England rolled his eyes and left the boy to his…mumbling. He had work to do.
England came home one day to America staring intensely at the screen, on what looked like a news channel…CNN? What channel was that?
"What are you watching? It actually looks relevant to society."
"Shh!" America hissed, waving off the older nation. "I'm watching my election."
"So you'll finally be out of my hair, eh?" England chuckled to himself, and began to make tea. He was just pouring the water from the kettle into the cup when he heard America's delightful scream and promptly dumped boiling water all over himself.
"Oh bloody fucking…"
"Fuck yeah, England!" America shouted, doing some odd sort of victory dance. "Dude, I would let my new President rape me anytime, fuck yes fuck yessss."
England sighed. "And who is it, then?"
"Stephen fucking Colbert."
"…Who in the bloody hell is that?"
endingnotes: …OHMYGOD THIS WAS SO AWESOME TO WRITE. also, i have a total crush on Stephen Colbert. jussayin'.