Just a warning: MAJOR CRACK! Please do not take this story seriously…
Summary: What happens when the BTT gets bored and decides to annoy the hell out of England? You get 105 ways to annoy Arthur Kirkland. Enjoy! Each chapter will consist of 5 ways to annoy Artie so the length will vary.
#1: Replace his tea with coffee.
England walked into his humble abode, taking care to hang his coat on the rack in the entryway. Rubbing his eyes, he kept walking to the kitchen, whilst yawning, in order to prepare his favorite beverage.
"That bloody meeting lasted far too long." Arthur commented, "All I have time to do is drink a nice, hot cup o' tea and then off to bed."
Reaching his destination, he opened the cupboard and reached for his beloved tea. Except, instead of grabbing tea, he pulled out a bag of freshly ground coffee beans. Pausing, England's bright green eyes widened and he let out a shrill squeal. Later, he would deny that he sounded like a five-year-old girl. Throwing the coffee bag out of his hand, he tried to find his desired drink. All the blond man could find was more coffee.
"What the bloody hell is this?" Arthur shouted, still digging through his cupboard. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, he slid to the floor, pulling his hair out, and attempting not to cry in frustration. He heard snickers coming from the hallway.
"Where the hell did you put my tea, you wankers?" Arthur ran off to attack the trio that dared touch his tea.
Meanwhile, in the US of A…
"Dude! Where's my coffee? And what is this tea crap doing here?"
#2: Poke his eyebrows randomly.
Poke.
Poke.
…Poke.
"Will you please stop doing that?" Arthur turned to the albino man leaning against the back of the sofa.
"Sure thing, Sir Arthur." Prussia grinned and mock saluted, still leaning behind England.
Arthur hummed in response and went back to his needlework. The portrait of the majestic unicorn was coming along quite nicely. A few minutes passed in comfortable silence until…
Poke.
…Prussia poked his eyebrows again.
"Don't make me stab you with this needle." England held up the needle he was using for stitching to emphasize his point.
Gilbert held his hands up in surrender, "Okay. Okay, I'll stop." He turned and walked to the kitchen, most likely to raid the fridge for beer.
Several hours later…
Poke. Poke. Poke.
"What are you doing, Spain?" England managed to hiss through his teeth.
"I do not know what you are talking about, mi amigo." Antonio smiled while reaching out his forefinger to…
Poke.
"Don't make me remind you of what I did to your Armada!"
"Anything but that!" Spain ran off, crying for Romano to hold him. What a wuss…
That night…
Arthur snuggled deeper into his thick duvet, decorated with the Union Jack. Sighing, he found the perfect spot to fall asleep in. Closing his eyes, he heard his door open and the faint sound of feet traipsing up to his bed. He knew what was coming so he tensed up, waiting for the inevitable…
Poke.
"Blast it all! Why do you bloody wankers feel the need to poke my eyebrows?" Arthur shot up in his bed to catch France's finger before it could get any closer.
"It would be because they are ridiculously huge. It would be a sin to not worship them." Francis grinned.
"You worship my eyebrows by poking them?" Arthur asked, raising one of the eyebrows in question. Then, he got an angry look upon his face. "They aren't as big as you're making them out to be, you frog!" He leaped out of his cozy bed to chase the Frenchman.
#3: Paint his fingernails while he's asleep.
Soft chuckles met his ears as Arthur slowly crawled out of dreamland. Prying open his heavy eyelids, he was met with the three faces that he absolutely couldn't stand (save for America's).
"What the bloody hell are you staring at me for?" Arthur grumbled, reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes. Catching a faint scent, he paused and looked to the location the odor: his hand.
What he saw made his face turn white. Upon his nails, there was a freshly applied coat of neon pink nail polish.
"Why on Earth would you do such a thing?" Arthur shouted, reaching for a box of tissues to try to wipe the offensive substance off his fingernails. To his dismay, the polish had already dried.
"Uh-oh. Looks like you're going to have to go to the store and pick up some nail polish remover…with your pretty pink nails!" Gilbert started to roll on the ground, he was laughing so hard. The other two in the trio had to hold each other up because of their laughter.
Arthur silently fumed, his face getting beet red. "You all can rot in hell for all I care." With that, the country left in order to find gloves to cover the hideous shade of pink on his fingers.
As he closed the door, he heard the trio start to laugh even harder. He shook his head in disgust. "Why are they even at my house?"
#4: Tell him fairies don't exist.
Arthur was sitting on his sofa, innocently reading a spell book on how to make America allergic to hamburgers when the trio decided to intrude on his alone time.
England decided to spare them a glance just in time to see them with wide smiles upon their faces.
"What is it this time, you three?" Arthur asked, setting the thick book aside.
Francis sat next to the Briton and put his arm around his shoulders. Arthur hissed at the unwanted contact.
"Mon ami, we've known each other for so long so you can tell me anything, you know."
"What are you getting at you wino?"
"If you're seeing things, you need to let me know so I can get you some professional help." France smirked.
"If you're talking about my faeries, they are real! It is just wankers like you all that can't see them." Arthur stood up in anger, tightening his fists.
"Oh wait, Francis. I think I see something!" Gilbert proclaimed. Then he started to pet the air next to him. "It's Einhorn the unicorn!" He stopped the petting motion so he could laugh.
Arthur grabbed his reading material and started up the stairs to get away from the nuisances. He paused when he heard Antonio shout through his laughter, "I see Isabella, the sprite!"
The tortured nation shook his head. "I'm going to curse all of them one day…"
#5: Speak in a language other than English. (Translations at the end.)
"Kartoffelnsindköstlich." Arthur heard Gilbert whisper in his ear. He glared at the albino.
"What are you trying to say?"
Prussia shrugged, "If you don't know what I'm saying, there's no hope for you since German is the best language in the world!"
"Then why are you speaking my language right now?" England smirked.
Gilbert balked at the question. "IhreNahrungsaugt!" With that, he went off in search for more beer or maybe even some pancakes.
Later…
Arthur was attempting to make dinner for his unwanted guests. Attempting being the key word. He was failing miserably at cooking the spaghetti. Antonio decided to step in and help him out. He didn't feel like dying from the Brit's cooking.
"Por favor, no te matesconsucocina." Spain started to roll up his sleeves to try to salvage the innocent pasta.
Arthur tensed up and shouted, "I don't understand what you're saying! Why won't you all speak bloody English?"
Antonio rolled his eyes and grabbed the pot containing the burnt noodles. "¿Por qué notratar deaprenderespañol?Seríamás fácil."
Arthur threw down his singed apron and stomped out of the kitchen. "I still don't know what you said, but go ahead and cook the bloody supper."
That night…
Arthur sat in his bed, holding his spell book, nursing his nightly cup of tea. The door creaked open and Francis walked in.
"Êtes-vous d'aller au litdéjà?" France smirked.
Arthur grimaced, "So sorry. I don't speak frog." He turned his eyes back to the page before him. Francis sauntered over to the edge of the bed, sitting next to England. He leaned over to whisper in his hear, causing Arthur to cringe.
"Voulez-vouscoucher avecmoice soir? "
Arthur pushed Francis away from him. "No thanks. I do, in fact, know what you just said only because of Alfred forcing me to listen to that stupid song of his. I'm not into bestiality, you frog. Now, leave me alone and speak my language. My house, my language!"
France pouted and turned to walk out of the bedroom. Arthur grinned.
"Wait a tick, France. I have something to pass on to your little friends. It goes a little like this… Mhallachtméleatgo léiraifreann."
Hope you all enjoyed it. Remember, it's supposed to be stupid. It's a crack fic. Just remember that when you review. If you would like, you can give me some of your ideas on how to annoy Artie in your review and I'll be sure to credit you if I use your idea. Thanks for reading.
Let me know if the translations are wrong and I will correct them.
Translations (According to Google Translator):
Kartoffelnsindköstlich - Potatoes are delicious
IhreNahrungsaugt – Your food sucks
Por favor, no te matesconsucocina - Please don't kill yourself with your cooking
¿Por qué notratar deaprenderespañol?Seríamás fácil. - Why don't you try to learn Spanish? It would be easier.
Êtes-vous d'aller au litdéjà? - Are you going to bed already?
Voulez-vouscoucher avecmoice soir? - Do you want to sleep with me tonight?
Mhallachtméleatgo léiraifreann - I curse you all to hell. (It's Irish)