Being a quiet person by nature is hard work... especially if you happen to be one of the most ignored people on the face of the entire damn Earth in the first place, therefore giving you no nearby hope of ever being seen.

It's not that Canada was a small country, or a micronation or something. People just didn't seem to notice he was there, or if they did they commonly mistook him for his slightly older, rather obnoxious brother (who he isn't even related to anyway, technically).

They even didn't notice him when he was telling them to please stop tearing up his living room and to leave all the books in the shelves and to please not start a fire in the kit-

...Too late.

"ARGH! Alfred, you idiot! One of these days I'll teach YOU not to EVER throw parties like this at my house again... Hmph... "I'll make them notice you Mattie" ...yeah..."I'll make you the 'star of North America'...Heh, like THAT was ever gonna happen." he grumbled to himself as he put out the fire on the stove top as quickly as possible, accidentally covering people around it with the contents of the fire extinguisher.

"Nee? Ludwig! Look! I'm covered in bubbles!veee" The chipper Italian bounced onto his previously dry german friend.

"Gack! Get off of me with that! Come we'll find a bathroom and fix you up." He grunted pulling the young man towards the door he just came out of...

"WAIT! Stop... Please don't use my towels!" he hurried to the door, but they didn't hear him of course.

"Why won't they listen to me?" he slumped to the ground next to his only ture friend and pet polar bear...

Only for it to walk straight away of course... and without even the usual "Who are you?" greeting that he had become so used to.

"You guys know how to party!" it said batting a paw at the drunken Prussian's face who was hanging off of the broken chair and table after his short brawl with a certain tipsy Hungarian woman.

The poor Canadian couldn't help but watch his whole house get destroyed in the drunken madness. Even other usually quite characters like Lituania, were drunk off thier heads and...

"AH! Please stop making out on the sofa! I just had that cleaned! Hello? Feliks...? Toris? GET OFF!"

He pulled them off and began brushing off the seat frantically.

"Like, whoa, slow down dude, rape's like not cool... then again I kinda like this side of you ..he he..." the blonde flirted, obviously mistaking Matthew's push for being a forceful move by his partner.
"I haven't even started *hic* yet you *hic* bastard!" he retorted smashing their heads together again.

Disgusted with the scene, the poor ... 'host-of-sorts'... left looking for a bag to puke in. Not that he hated that kind of stuff or anything though. The stress was just killing him internally.

Sneaking into hopefully a more quite room, a guest room, he sighed and went to lay down on the bed...

"Oh god, what are the-" he squeaked a little as a rather large sized tomato conveniently flew over his head just narrowly missing him. An angry Italian shook with rage shouting profanities at him in his own native language.

"Get OUT of here you Americano bastard!" Lovino gripped Antonio's side under the covers gone red with embarrassment and rage. The Spaniard just sighed and shook his head holding his face in one of his hands.

After his heart stopped palpitating from the initial shock of being spoken to for once, Matthew ran out of the room shouting (quitely) in exasperation, slamming the door behind him. This day couldn't possibly get any worse...

Or could it?

"~Oh honhonhon...*hic* Look at you *hic* Arthur you are *hic* so drunk zat you cannot escape me!" the long haired Frenchman toppled on top of the shivering and obviously intoxicated Brit. Both their accents were grossly over-exaggerated as they began to whisper dirty sadistic nothings to each other . Very quickly they then proceeded to unbutton eachother on the floor violently as they began bickering in denial about their shortlived marriage that had only recently ended a few years ago...

"Oh, God... why me?" he whimpered, as he winced at the sight of his two dads... of sorts... get dirty right in the wide open.

shuffling along the rest of the house in a depressed like manner, he was so fed up that he didn't even take notice of the poor japanese man who actually DID notice him and was crying out for help desperately before the horny turk and greek behind him managed to yank him into the closet...

"There, now that we're all here we can find out who Kiku REALLY likes!" the turk smirked.
Heracles rolled his eyes and pulled Kiku all the way to his side getting ready to retort by using the fact that he and japan knew eachother better anyway, but he took too long to say it and was too drunk to be understood anyway, so I have to skip that part unfortunately...

In the very end of the hallway Matthew carefully and strategically tiptoed over the... hopefully not dead bodies... of Eduard, and Ravis and inched around very timidly so as not be noticed by the rabid frothing Natalya who was currently tying up her immense and uncoscious-due-to-alcohol-and-drugs brother.

He stole a pitying and painful glance at the poor man about to be incestually ravished in his current and unfortunate state...

"I would do something but..." ... and just as he said that, Alfred (the whole reason any of this even happened) entered the room shouting like and idiot about how 'great' the party had been so far.

It only took three seconds for the next few events to happen.

1 : for Natalya to whip around pissed off and defensivley
2 : for Matthew to duck in terror automatically assuming that she would lunge at him instead of his brother mistaking one for the other
and 3: for Alfred to stand there like a big smiling buffoon as he was tackled to the ground with an earshattering clash of a vase, two paintings, and possibly some of his own bones.

Shivering and shuffling forward, still ducked and bunched together in a squat, Matthew used this opportunity to quickly drag the sleeping Russian into the room next to his head, which was conveniently untouched... (and as heavy as Ivan may be, let's just say Mattie was very VERY determined... and maybe a bit of being terrified for his life may have given him a magical burst of strength...)

For the next five to ten hours, the canadian sat in his bed with the drunk snoring Ivan, who was now untied and tucked in nicely, pondering...

just...imagining...

no, actually maybe ... plotting was the best word to use.

"I'll get him back... Stupid brother... " he shuddred with disgust. He had already officially disowned Alfred, and was in the habit of constantly telling people that he was an adoptive relative... but now it was time for this peaceful canadian to GET REVENGE for fuck sake! He glanced over at the snoozing Russian beside him

"Revenge... yeah..."

T.B.C. ~Moo!