The nation of Canada was a shy, quiet sort of guy. He was rather gentle and accommodating. He was willing to forgive his idiot family, despite the fact that they couldn't remember his nation name, much less his human. Canada was a beautiful country, one that absolutely shone with a natural light. When covered in snow, there was no place he could think of as its equal (though he was, of course, biased). He loved roaming the less civilized parts of his land – where there were few people and his only encounters with living beings were the animals and plant life. He loved seeing the icy lakes, and knowing it was time to take out a pair of hockey sticks. He loved staying in his cabin out in the middle of nowhere (though his city-house was nice, he preferred the quiet unless his boss needed him).

Ahem. He'd gone off on a tangent, there. Back to business. Canada was a gentle nation. However, he was rather irritable at the moment – Russia had, once again, sat on him in a meeting. The other nations had, once again, forgotten his name when they were counting attendees. They had, once again, counted him as an extra head, scaring America to death due to his phobia of ghosts (that one didn't bother him as much – seeing America so scared he was willing to hide behind Italy of all nations, was almost worth it). Kumagenie had, once again, asked, 'who,' despite Canada being the one who fed him. He was willing to forgive and forget – he always had before. That is, he was willing to forgive and forget – until America started bashing his favorite hockey team.

Canada snarled, and every nation in the break room turned to his direction in shock. America squeaked, and jumped backwards to avoid the 'ghost.' He strode forward, and for a moment the superpower stared at him kind of funny. Then his face turned pale as recognition flashed in his eyes. Yep. America knew he was screwed.

"United States of America," Canada growled, and America let out a soft, almost-whimper, "you are a complete moron. How dare you bash my team? It isn't my fault your team isn't as good on the ice. It's your own fault for not devoting as much time to them as your football teams, you conceited prick." The other nations gasped. Canada absently noted that France and England were staring at the North Americans in shock, but he refused to be deterred. "You couldn't just consider the other team in its season, could you? It's always football this, football that, for you. Well get this – I prefer soccer. Even rugby is better!" America looked like he was about to object, but Canada quickly overrode him. "Your country is suffering under the weight of the world, and you laugh it off like the idiot you truly are. All of your ideas for 'superheroes' to save the world are ludicrous. For one thing, you can't effectively prove how radiation will affect the person, and for another, mutations don't usually involve superpowers. Radiation in that quantity usually kills the subject – are you indirectly telling us that you want to kill our citizens? Or is this directed at our own?" America's already pale face somehow became paler.

"Oh, of course – you're the 'hero', right? Well, Mr. Hero, prove your worth. Actually help, instead of staying on the sidelines until it's almost too late. Figure out a new, cost-efficient and environmental fuel instead of making up a superhero to save us. Think of a way to cut down on all of the other greenhouse gases. Take notes from nations who are doing better – like Germany. Pay attention in meetings, instead of constantly trying to divert everybody's attention.

"And on that note, you should repay your debts. Exactly how much do you owe China now? I'm sure he could quote us an exact price, but I don't really care. You claim to be a hero, but you're heavily reliant on other nations. You should be ashamed of yourself, for all of the mistakes you've made recently. Instead of claiming you can do something, do it.

"Like those diets you're constantly on. Either stick to them or shut up. Nobody cares about it, you fatty. It's annoying to listen to. It's your own fault, you know – McDonald's burgers are extremely unhealthy, and you know it. So stop eating them. Or keep eating them, and exercise. Who cares, as long as you stop claiming something that's never going to happen!" Canada breathed heavily after his (comparatively) short rant, despite the fact that he hadn't actually shouted until the end. He was so tired of America's egoistic tendencies. Eventually, they'd get his southern neighbor killed.

America blinked up at him slowly, eyes slightly moist. That brought Canada back to the present. He curled in on himself a little as he realized that, once again, he'd let his anger take over. Once again, he'd brought America, one of the happiest nations, to the brink of tears (although this time wasn't even half as bad as that four-hour rant that had taken place however long ago). Once again, he felt remorse for his actions (especially since this time he'd embarrassed America in front of the other nations).

Canada hung his head as the other nations snickered at the ordeal. He heard England's smug declaration of, "It's about time somebody brought the lad down a peg or two." He heard France's murmured, "What got into my little Canada?"

Canada winced at France's remark – of course he would remember his name at a time like this. Canada shook his head and left the room. As he expected, nobody stopped him, and he could hear America's shaky laughter.

After they'd all returned to the meeting room, Germany counted them again, ignoring Italy's answer of, "PASTA!" Canada sank further down in his seat as he realized something. Germany had, once again, skipped over his name. Everybody seemed to have moved past what had happened less than ten minutes ago. A self-deprecating smirk appeared on Canada's face. Of course.

Once again, he'd been forgotten.