"Ha! Ya Russian bitch!" Amelia shouted while pouring herself some more Long Island Tea; her preferred alcohol. It was a mixture of vodka, rum, tequila and God know what else. The target of her assaults eyed her ruefully and sipped at a bottle of ordinary vodka.
"Really, America. I know I raised you better than that," Alice murmured from the love seat she was perched on with Marianne, who was popping the cork off of the French wine she had brought.
"Nyet, England. The silly girl is just drunk. Let her ride on the pleasure of being first for now. Mother Russia will win soon enough."
Despite her words, an ominous aura was beginning to wrap around the pink clad girl and Wang (who was sprawled out on the ground by her feet) scooted away.
The five girls were watching the women's gymnastics portion of the Olympics at England's house for a sort of celebration of their good relations.
Or so they said. In reality, they just liked sports and were savoring being able to beat each other without physically brandishing weapons.
For now, it appeared America was in the lead, with Russia falling second. Hence the tense atmosphere in the room, somehow unnoticed by Amelia.
"Mother Russia my ass. Y'all suck. I got highest in the qualifications for two events!"
"Excuse me!" Alice started, irked. "I'm best at uneven bars."
"And you forget that China is highest for beam, aru!" Wang protested.
"Nyet, nyet. You all are just uselessly hopeful. Russia is best all around, and in the end, it all matters."
Marianne watched with a tipsy smile on her face, twirling the wine glass in her hand aimlessly. She could care less for the sport; she was sticking around for the cat fight.
America was about ready to retort, when Russia's eyes widened in horror. On the television, one of her girls, Anastasia Grishina, stopped mid-routine and left the floor, creating a worse impression than when China's Deng Linlin fell off the beam. The stunned silence lasted only for a while, before Amelia burst into drunken laughter, keeling over and spilling her 'tea' onto Vanya's coat. This served only to anger to girl further, and the two ended up rolling on the carpet, scratching and clawing at each other.
The others watched them, too preoccupied with this new entertainment to pay any attention when the television announced that America had indeed won gold, and Russia only silver.
The girls finally separated, too tired and inebriated to continue. As they panted, staring angrily at the other, a small smile broke out onto Vanya's face.
"Your boss never did take away my nuclear capacity."
With that, she dashed from the room, albeit unsteadily, with Amelia following after. Marianne, who had remained silent all this time, stood and started for the door.
"Where are you going, aru?" Wang asked.
"To my house, to prepare to surrender Paris."
A/N: The lack of quality in these past two Olympic fics is so astoundingly poor, I kind of want to commit Seppuku. But I couldn't resist. So here ya go.