Prologue.

Somewhere on the Italian Front, 1943.

It was a typical night on the Italian lines, Italy was in one of the machine gun posts, having a night of fun, despite the fact the war was now being fought on his soil. The sounds of laughter, wine and pasta being shared and enjoyed covered their approaching doom.

"Ha ha!" Italy laughed, "Mister Germany should really learn to lighten up and not be so serious all the time! Maybe people would like him more if he just learned to let loose and have some more fun!"

Then, without warning, a small crack of thunder rumbled, a bolt of lightning lit up the valley before them.

"That was odd! I didn't think it was going to rain tonight..." Italy commented.

The thunder rumbled again, and another crack of lighting illuminated the figure now standing above them.

"Ciao, vista una buona serata, gli amici?" the figure said, before he began to spray the Italian soldiers with the Thompson submachine gun he held in his hands. The Italian soldiers crumpled and howled as the .45 slugs smashed into them, and after the weapon was empty, Italy was the only who wasn't laying in a pool of his own blood. However he was crouching in a pool of something else.

"AHH! Please don't kill me mister scary monster man!" Italy pleaded, as the figure slowly walked towards him, replacing the empty magazine in his weapon with a fresh one. "Please don't kill me, I'm just an innocent country, well maybe not entirely innocent, I mean I am part of the Axis and we haven't been doing very nice things to Poland, and Czechoslovakia, and Belgium and the Netherlands and France, but that's mostly Germany, I couldn't even win a war against Egypt or Ethiopia, and Germany could have held out longer in Sicily if he didn't have to save me all the time, just don't kill me I just want to sing and laugh and play and have beautiful sensuous nights with small breasted and long haired women, not fight and kill and bleed and..."

"Shut up." The figure ordered, enhancing his point by sticking the barrel of his weapon in Italy's face, but Italy continued to beg for his life. The figure grabbed Italy by his collar and lifted him up. He then reached into his pocket and took out a small sticker, and after he licked the back of it, he stuck it on Italy's forehead. This caused Italy to be quiet. It was then, that with another bolt of lightning, Italy saw the face of the monster, his face blackened with shoe polish.

"Tell your boyfriend Germany, What. You. Saw. Capito?"
"Si, si, si I will just don't kill meeeee!"

The man dropped Italy and then walked away.

After Italy was sure the man had disappeared, he began to scream for Germany at the top of his lungs.

"Verdammt Italy, how many times have I told you that you shouldn't start firing machine guns and screaming for me whenever a leaf falls on your head! You're going to reveal your position to everyone if you keep this up!" Germany bellowed as he ran towards Italy's machine gun post.

"Holy Mother of the Munich Beergardens!" Germany yelled in shock when he saw the bloody scene, the scents of gunpowder mixed with urine filled the air. "Italy what the hell happened here? And why didn't you die too?"

"Germany... it was horrible, we were just relaxing and celebrating and having some wine and pasta when this man shows up out of nowhere and says, 'Hello friends are you having a good night?' and then he starts shooting us! It was horrible!"

"Calm the hell down! And did you piss yourself? That's disgusting!"

Suddenly, from behind him, Germany heard rapid boot falls and screams of terrified panic.

"Veneziano, Germany! Help me! It's a monster! He's gonna kill us all!" Romano ran on scene, and dove, grabbing onto Germany's leg with a death grip.

"Will the two of you calm down! Italy go and change your pants, South Italy, let go of me, get a hold of yourselves, and we'll talk about this at the campsite!

Later, after a change of trousers...

"...Now that you two are in some control of yourselves, what the heck happened?" Germany asked the two, as they sat in front around a campfire.

"I already told you what happened to me Germany! But, I kept this thing the monster stuck onto my forehead, but I can't read what it says! It's not a dick or a curse word or something is it?" Italy asked, as he pointed to the sticker. Germany reached over and ripped it off, Italy yelping when he did so.

"No, Italy it isn't a phallus. I think it's... a warning? 'The worst is yet to come.' It's defiantly a warning. South Italy, what did he do to you?"

"Holy crap man, he just showed up out of freaking nowhere, hovering over me while I was, reminiscing about something..."
"What?" Germany asked.
"I was looking at a picture of Belgium and playing with myself behind a rock are you freaking happy?"
"Whatever, what happened then?"
"All of a sudden I just heard shooting and screaming and killing, so I ran back to my post and he was just there, standing over these bodies! I freaked out when he started walking towards me, and then he saw the picture, and he took it and started staring at me, and then he started... speaking French!"

Italy screamed at the top of his lungs in shock.

"Are you telling me France came in and massacred two posts of men? That's ridiculous."
"No no, It's like he freakin' knew that scared me, and he didn't speak it like France does! But, then he leaned in and he said, 'She's out of your league you little punk' and walked away!"

Germany looked back at the card in his hand, and looked closer at the emblem on the card.

"What did he look like?" He asked.
"His face was darkened!" Italy said.
"And, he looked like America, but if you pointed that out to him, he'd get angry at you!" Romano added.
"But he also seemed really polite if you got to know him!" Italy laughed "And he was surprisingly unnoticeable!"
"He was a Black Devil, right out of Hell!" Romano wailed.

Germany studied the emblem. The first thing that caught his eye was the "USA" on it. But it couldn't have been him. Germany thought, If it was America, he would have let those two know, knowing how much he likes to take the credit for everything. He looked again, and like the bottom half of a "T" was "Canada."

Of course, Canada. Someone so unnoticeable that he could sneak up like that, but then again you could drive an entire armoured division past those two and they wouldn't notice. He was the most terrifying force on die Western Front in World War One. And he was a notoriously good trench raider. I could have sworn I'd completely defeated his will to fight at Dieppe, but he was in Sicily, and I have been fighting him here. This is bad. With Canada's skill and brain power, combined with America's resources, this isn't good. I should call Japan, he defeated Canada at Hong Kong, maybe he has some techniques to defeat him...

Through his binoculars, America watched Germany and the two Italy brothers around their campfire.

"Dude this is totally perfect! Italy is so freaking right now!" America said.
"You don't think I scared them too much do you?" Canada asked.
"Naw man, it was awesome! When you scared the crap out of South Italy, you totally fucked with his head! He probably won't sleep for a month! Oh dude! Germany's heading back to his tent! Did you do something to him?"
"Yep, he'll be rushing out in three...two...one."

"WHO'S THE DEAD MAN WHO STOLE MIEN BEER!" Germany Screamed.