"Welcome to my awesomely heroic costume party!" America shouted into the microphone. People applauded and America started off with his opening statements. He was the one who had invited them all to this themed party where all the countries had to dress up as their popular personifications. Some people, though, were too busy doing something else to be paying attention.

"So who are you supposed to be mon cheri?" France laughed, looking England's costume over.

England's eyes narrowed and her grip tightened on her fake trident, "I'm Britannia, you dolt."

"Psh, I suspected as much," France laughed. "Don't you ever get tired of her?"

"Well, what about you? Marianne, again?" England snapped.

"What do you mean 'Marianne, again'? Who can ever tire of my Marianne?"

"Well, everyone in England, for one. Everyone else in the world, if you want another example," England scoffed.

France rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous because you're stuck with playing boring Britannia!"

"Britannia rules the waves!" England retorted, seriously contemplating the thought of stabbing France with her trident.

"Britannia is an aggressive pirate!" was the smug reply.

"At least she doesn't have a pet chicken!"

"At least chickens exist, unlike unicorns."

"Unicorns do so exist!"

"Non, they don't."

At this point, England had enough and attacked France outright. After hearing much cat-fighting and shouting, America stopped his speech to look at both of them, "Are you two quite finished yet?"

"No!" was the simultaneous reply.

America sighed audibly. "You know, your costumes are equally great."

"Really, Amerique?" France asked, surprised.

"Yeah," America nodded before continuing, "but mine is the best!"

England and France both glared at him.

"You actually think that Uncle Sam can beat out Britannia?"

"Or Marianne?"

"Duh," America said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. The two women countries exchanged a glance then both nodded in agreement to their visually communicated plan. America was going to regret upsetting either of them.

***

"Where's America?" Canada asked both France and England as they met up at the buffet table.

"Well, I wouldn't know Mattheiu," France said innocently. "I'm sure he isn't locked into a supply closet somewhere in the building."

England nudged her accomplice with her elbow. "Way to be conspicuous, France," she said sarcastically.

"What?" Canada yelled, shocked. England and France watched, laughing, as the Canadian ran off to save his brother from the prison called 'the supply closet'.

That was the day America decided never to let England and France join forces again. Ever.