A/N: So, I love EPCOT's Food and Wine festival, although I have long suspected it is just an excuse for teen tourists to get drunk and pay lots of money for not a lot of food. That could just be me, though. So I thought it would be funny if the countries went to their own exhibitions. For The Day Before the part with Aussie and Zea, I tried looking up Aussie and New Zealand slang, sorry if I failed.
Warning: Genderbending Ahead
How it Began
It was another World Conference and everything seemed to be going as usual.
France was trying to grope England without him noticing while America fended the Frenchman away (ninja style!)
Poland was reading a fashion magazine while Lithuania tried to remind him to pay attention while trying to keep Latvia from pissing his pants at the same time (and Estonia wasn't helping at all. Was he playing tetris on his phone? Why that little-)
Italia was watching Germany raptly but Romano had a sneaking suspicion that her sister wasn't actually listening to a thing he was saying but she couldn't do anything because Spain had her in a firm (yet very comfortable...no! No! Not comfortable!) hug/sitting-on-his-lap.
Hong Kong and Seychelles were chatting quietly while Korea tried to grope China who was trying to get Japan's attention. Japan was too busy mentally congratulating himself on his ninja teaching skills (America-chan was doing quite well. Maybe he should let her start using shurke- no. Never mind.)
Belarus was glaring and muttering at her brother, sending Russia telepathic 'marry me's and thoroughly creeping Egypt out, who was sitting next to her. Turkey and Greece were completely oblivious of Egypt's pain because they were busy having a silent glaring contest. (I hate you. I hate you back. I hate you more. Kiss me? Not a chance. I hate you. I hated you first.)
Overall, no one was paying attention to anything that was going on and Germany knew it.
Collapsing in his chair, the blonde ran his fingers through his slicked-back hair, resting his face in his hands.
"What's wrong, Germany?" Italia asked, concern in her light voice.
"Italia, sometimes I think I'm the only reason we ever get anything done," the German muttered.
"Ve~, but you are the only reason we ever get anything done!" Italia said cheerily, her concern dissipating, "So don't worry! We'll continue not actually listening and you can get all the credit!"
Germany groaned in despair.
"Hey guys!" a voice said, drawing everyone's attention to the front of the room.
America was standing on her chair (wait...why was she-?) and had her hands on her hips, superman style.
"This isn't work related so please don't just groan and ignore me!" America continued, smiling at everyone, "I want to invite you all to come to America (hey, that sounds funny!) from September twenty eighth to November twelfth!"
"And why would we do that, comrade America?" Russia said, smiling up at aforementioned standing-on-chair country.
"Ha ha! You and your creepy sister can stay home if you want," America shot back, still smiling broadly, "I don't like you anyway, so I'm cool with that! But the reason why everyone else should come is because that's when I have my annual World Showcase Food and Wine festival and my boss suggested that I invite you guys and see what you think! I hire a lot of immigrants so it should be more or less accurate!"
The words 'food' and 'wine' definitely got people's attention.
"And why have we never heard of this celebration, L'Amerique?" France asked, slightly offended that he had been left out of a celebration that included wine.
"Because no one would want you there anyway, Frog," England glared at the Frenchman's innocently puzzle expression, "I don't even know why she's inviting you now."
"Because I invited everybody," America grinned, "Except the Commie and his psycho sister. They can stay home."
"Well I would love to come to your country and drink all you wine," France smiled, "I mean, grope all your women. I mean-"
"Ve~! Will there be pasta?" Italia asked sitting up straighter in her chair.
America grinned at her, then at the chair that Romano was trying in vain to escape, "Yup! And tomatoes!"
Spain looked up at the mention of tomatoes.
"If tomatoes and pasta will be there then Roma and I will come!" Spain grinned.
"Like hell we will, bastardo!" Romano pouted, but her struggling had slowed and she looked resigned to her fate.
"Will there be beer?" Prussia asked, looking up from his conversation with Canada.
Despite himself, Germany looked up hopefully.
America laughed, "Course there'll be beer! And a ton of other foreign alcohol I can't pronounce the names for! We couldn't call it the 'Food and Booze Festival' so we settled on wine because it sounds more official!"
"We're in if there's booze!" Denmark shouted from the other end of the table.
There were protests from Iceland, but Norway and Sweden nodded and Finland cheered, "Of course we'll come, America!"
After the mention of alcohol, more countries called their willingness to come and pretty soon any silence/order that had been left was thoroughly dissipated.
"When America said that Bruder and his sister could stay home, was he talking to me, Mattvy?" Ukraine asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet and causing a consequential bouncing noise that was causing more than a few nosebleeds and some glares from Russia to various red-faced nations.
"Oui," Canada smiled at her friend, "I'm sure you can come. Am doesn't really think before she talks."
Prussia was just opening his mouth to say something beer-related, when America called the attention back to the front of the room.
"I'm glad y'all agreed to come!" she smiled, "A plane ticket has been delivered to you hotel room, to fly you to Orlando, Florida! Feel free to spend lots of money on cheap souvenirs in my country and airports!"
Then the world conference was officially brought to a close and the chatting nations exited the meeting room to return to their hotel rooms.
"Ve~! Japan!" Italia exclaimed as she ran to her friend, "Are you going to come to America and go to this Pasta and Alcohol festival thing?"
Japan turned, then smiled at his small Italian friend, "I'm not sure, Ita-chan. Are you?"
"Of course!" Italia beamed, "And I think Germany is going too!"
Suddenly, the copper haired Italian gasped, "Ve~! And we can sit together on the plane! That would be awesome!"
Japan smiled at his friend, "Have you been spending time with Prussia-san?"
Italia turned to start walking to her room, "Yes! Big brother Prussia has been coming over with Miss Canada quite a lot!"
"I wonder why that is?" Japan asked.
Shrugging, Italia pressed the UP button and the elevator doors 'ding~!'-ed open.
Italia and Japan stepped inside and the doors were just closing when a voice called, "Like, hold the doors for us!"
Japan jumped into action, securing the doors in the 'open' position with his arm, as a very energetic (and very pink) Poland dragged Lithuania into the elevator after him.
"C'mon, Liet," Poland begged the brown haired girl, "We should, like, totally go!"
"I don't know..." Lithuania muttered, wiping her hands on her pants, "Mr. Russia might get angry..."
"You don't, like, live with him anymore," Poland rolled his eyes, "So doesn't it, like, not matter what the hell he thinks? You're like, totally your own country now, Liet!"
Suddenly, Italia flying-tackle-glomped Lithuania with a, "Ve~! You should come, Miss Lithuania! Just like Mr. Poland said, Mr. Russia might be big and scary and totally freaky but Miss America said he couldn't come, right? Va bene, Miss Lithuania!"
Lithuania smiled at the small Italian, "Thank you, Miss Italy. I think I will come."
Italia released Lithuania only to to begin jumping up and down, and was soon joined by Poland, both squealing "Yay! Yay! Yay!"
They stopped only when the doors "Ding!"-ed and they piled out onto the seventh floor.
Poland was still bouncing up and down, however, and didn't see the other nation until he crashed into a very broad, very hard and very intimidating chest.
Said chest, in fact, belonged to an equally broad, hard and intimidating Swede.
"Whoa, like, sorry!" Poland squeaked, quickly pulling Lithuania down the hall to his room, rushing inside, and closing the door.
Sweden looked watched them go, slightly puzzled at their reaction.
You wouldn't have been able to tell by his facial expression, of course, but he was puzzled nonetheless.
His puzzlement didn't last long, however, as the chatter that had been filling the hallway previously resumed.
"-So then Lat got all freaked out and I had to tell that British jerk of jerks what for and he went running, of course, because I'm just that frightening! There was also this strange burning smell coming for the kitchen, but that's not important. So then Lat calmed down a little and we went to go play in the garden-"
Finland smiled down at her adopted son, then back up at Sweden.
"S' 'r y' r'lly s'r's 'b't g'ng t' th's f'd 'nd w'n' th'ng, Fin?" Sweden asked.
"Of course!" Finland said happily as Sealand continued to rattle on, "I think it's very nice of Miss America to invite us. And you know Den will deffinately drag Norge and Ice along, so we might as well!"
"'F m' w'f 's g'ng, th'n s' 'm I," Sweden said, unlocking their hotel room.
Finland blushed, muttering, "I'm not your wife..." under her breath.
Sealand bounded into the room, flopping down on the bed and resuming his monologue.
"-then that stupid Brit chased me around the house-but he made Lat cry!-and called me a 'good for nothing bloody nuisance and-hey! What's this?"
The chatter paused for a moment as Sealand sat up and handed a manila envelope to his parents.
"Yo, other nation peoples who are reading this! Your hero, (Me! America!) has enclosed your plane ticket, directions to your hotel, and instructions!
By the way! Y'all have to use your human names while in my country!
Have fun!"
The Day Before
"You know, you don't have to do this."
England looked up from the list he was carefully studying to the tall Scotsman behind him.
"Well, what if I want to?" England demanded, scratching down another name.
"He's right, you English punk!" called a voice from the kitchen, "And why the bloody hell do we have to come anyway?"
The red head across from England rolled his eyes, "Look, Iggs, we all know you want to impress your girlfriend, but you don't have to drag all of us around with you."
"C'mon, Cai, you're excited to go too," the Irishman's twin prodded, "America even said there would be an Irish exhibition!"
"For the love of haggis, calm DOWN, Eily," Scotland exclaimed, rounding on his younger brother.
Eire appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon, "Oi! You touch my boys, Alistar, and I swear I'll kick your ass half way to next Tuesday!"
Wales wanted to point out that it WAS Tuesday, but he kept quiet.
"And for all that is good and Irish, England, your name is fine!" Eire added, shaking her spoon at the youngest boy.
"B-but what if she doesn't like it?" England whined.
"Arthur is a perfectly acceptable name and if you don't stop fussing l'll tell your girlfriend every embarrassing this about you since the fourteenth century!" Scotland threatened.
England sighed.
"Arthur Kirkland it is, then," he leaned back in his chair.
"It's been a long time since I've gone by my human name," Scotland mused, "Alistair. I still like it."
"Well, we're always calling each other by our human names," North Ireland pointed out, "Cailean and Eily."
"That obnoxious little brat, Amelia, and her sister still call me Erinn," Eire huffed, "So I guess used to it."
"Are Jack and Kaelin going?" Wales asked from the couch, "Kaelin always calls me Dylan."
As Wales was speaking, said New Zealander was begging Australia on the very subject.
"Please, please, please, Aussie?" New Zealand begged.
"I dunno, Zea," Australia said, "I think I'm just gonna chuck a sickie on this one. Why're you so set on on going to this thing?"
New Zealand pouted, "But, Aussie, it'll be fun! There'll be grog and food and then we can learn about the other Nations too!"
"Don't be such a dag, Zea," Australia rolled his eyes, "You're always going on about those European blokes like they're so bloody fantastic."
"Dylan and Alistair will be there too," New Zealand prodded.
Australia thought about it for a minute.
"All right," he conceded, "We'll go. But just to grab a schooner and get out of there. I don't like that yank much more than I like her pommie boyfriend."
Somewhere across the Pacific, America sneezed.
Canada turned to her sister, "Am, are you coming down with something?"
America flashed a million-watts smile, "Nah. I think people are just talking about how awesome I am!"
The Canadian rolled her eyes, "Speaking of you, I've never been to EPCOT before. What's it like?"
The blue-eyed twin grinned mischievously, "I almost forgot you've never been! You'll love it, trust me."
Kumajiro chose this moment to declare to the room, "I'm hungry."
"You just ate lunch, Kumamoto," Canada sighed looking down at her bear, "Are you sure you're hungry?"
"Who're you?" the bear asked.
Canada sighed, "I'm Canada, the one who feeds you."
"Feed me, then."
The Canadian sighed again.
"Sorry, Am," Canada said, turning to the American, "I have to feed the bottomless pit."
"Prussia's here?" Kumajiro asked.
"No, you," Canada rolled her eyes as she headed off.
At the same time, Japan was having a discussion with China.
"I don't know if this is such a good idea, China-san," Japan said uncertainly, "I mean, Italy-chan said that she wants me to come, but I'm not so sure..."
"Oh, don't be such a stiff, aru," China rolled his eyes, "Man up and come, aru!"
Japan sighed, but, being the polite person that he is, refrained from rolling his eyes.
"Plus," China continued in his matter-of-fact way, "It would be rude not to come, aru!"
But that's as far as he got before something large and familiar (and distinctly white and blue) crashed into the Chinese man with a shout of, "Anki's breasts are mine, da~ze!"
Japan sighed as China shouted, "I AM A MAN, ARU!"
Maybe he should just go to this festival of America-chan's. It would make Italy and China happy and it would be nice to see how America-chan portrayed his country.
Or maybe not...