England brutally banged on the F5 key of his laptop for the hundredth time, refreshing his Twitter feed and scanning over the new posts with the #NotW and #murdochgate hash tags. "Right, have to watch that! Time to switch on the telly!" He grabbed the remote and turned on the television to watch PMQ's. "This should be bloody brilliant!" He settled back into the sofa and grinned at the glowing TV screen. So far what he feared would be another dismal remembrance of the terrorist attack on the tube had turned into the greatest week of his life. Every day since Hugh Grant had dropped his bombshell, the unfolding scandal had revealed new shocking horrors about the media in the UK, and the politicians involved had kept England riveted to the news and Internet.
"Oi! England!" Australia greeted him as he walked into the lounge. "News Corp's stock values are dropping like a rock … what the bloody hell … " He stopped mid sentence and stared at the expression of impassioned joy on England's face as he watched his boss squirm like the proverbial worm on TV. "… Uh, England … mate?"
"Shhh! I want to hear what Cameron says!" England hissed as he leaned forward and smashed the volume button on the remote control before throwing it down on the coffee table in disgust. "Right! 'The last government the last government' stop trying to blame everything on your predecessor, you spineless twat!"
Australia blinked and looked at the TV, his eyes widening. "This is what you've been doing all this time? I finally came over because you wouldn't answer my phone calls."
England didn't hear him. He was too busy crowing and pointing at the TV. "Look at his face! Look at his face! Ed can't bloody believe what he just heard!" He sat back, laughing hysterically. "This has been the best week I've had in … oh, I can't remember!"
"Uh, if you say so." Australia walked into the kitchen and caught the aroma of frying chips. They smelled pretty good so it couldn't be England's cooking. He grabbed the last beer from the fridge and returned to the living room. "This is the last beer." He screwed off the top and looked at England before flicking it at him; it bounced off of his head unnoticed.
"Not right now!" England cackled, reading over the live blog of the Guardian.
"Right." Australia muttered. He walked over to the table and picked up England's phone. "Did you even bother to listen to your voice mail? Shit, you let your mobile go dead!"
"Shut up!" England growled, hitting the F5 button on his laptop. More maniacal giggles erupted from him as he read through the twitter posts. He ran his finger over the touch pad, clicking on links to read more articles and blog posts. "Delicious! Murdoch's shipping Brooks to your country! She's resigning in disgrace!" His giggles morphed into outright laughter.
"What?" Australia turned around and looked at the TV. He made his way back to the couch and sat down to watch the England's boss try to look like he didn't have his hand in the biscuit tin. "Just what I need, another pommy bint shitting up the place."
England giggled, "You are a colony for criminals, she'll fit right in."
Before Australia could unload on him, America walked into the room. "Hey, old man! I've been trying to call you! What is this crap that one of your tabloids tried to hack 911 victims' cell phones?" He glanced at both of them but became distracted by the smell of food being cooked properly in England's house. "Oh, is that fries and cheese I smell?"
"Shut UP!" England shouted at him. "So help me if I miss any of this!" He turned the volume up higher. America watched as both England and Australia watched a man on the screen. He couldn't help but hear the words the man shouted because the volume was so high.
"Isn't it convenient that this absent Prime Minister has been able to dodge the real questions of what did he know about criminal activities from Murdoch, when did he know it, and isn't it time, based upon the British public's reaction, that we sent this non-tax-paying Murdoch back from whence he came, and for the final humiliation, get the Secretary of State for Energy to drive him to the airport."
England jumped up out of his seat, screaming hysterically with laughter. "Skinner! You are brilliant!"
Australia also laughed. "Oh hell no, you are not sending him back. Besides, he's an American now. Chuck him back to America!"
America could never understand England's politics. For grown men in elected positions, they acted like screaming children. He went into the kitchen to get a beer, noticing the delicious smell of gravy also cooking. "Damn that smells good, wonder if France has been in here lately." He opened the fridge and found no beer."
"England, you're out of beer!" America shouted as he came back to the living room, shooting Australia a dirty look for obviously taking the last one.
Australia glanced at him before taking another drink of it. "Your shout, mate."
America glared at him as he stomped out of the house and headed to the nearest shop to buy beer. By the time he returned, Australia and England were arguing as Australia flipped through channels and England read through more twitter posts.
"How is this my fault?" Australia grumbled.
"Because he's from your country, git!" England grinned.
"Like I said before, he became an American citizen. We don't want him back." Australia chuckled, looking at America as he walked into the room. "Right, the grog's here." He held out his hand to America.
America ignored him, sitting on the couch between him and England he took out a beer for himself. He watched England chatting with someone, giggling like a schoolgirl as he pounded on the keys of the poor laptop.
"News of the World had a good run, but after this better to lay the old girl to rest, besides … still plenty of rags out there with page three tits." England giggled some more, talking out loud as he typed.
Australia smirked. "As long as there's a page three to wank to somewhere, eh England?"
"Who the fuck wanks to page three? Just lick the pictures like a normal person." England muttered, glancing at Australia before reaching into the bag in America's lap and taking a beer without asking. He opened it and took a drink, never taking his eyes off the screen.
America handed Australia a beer. "This is what he's been spending all of his time doing?"
"Cheers mate, Yeah, looks like it." Australia answered, opening the bottle and flicking the cap at England's head again. It bounced off his ear and landed on the floor. England eyes grew wide before he leapt off the couch, over the coffee table and started dancing in the middle of the room.
"YES … YES! News Corp has withdrawn their bid for BSkyB! Oh yeah! This feels so GOOD!" England began dancing with a horrendous, hip jerking motion.
Australia grinned at England, pulling his mobile out of his pocket and catching a few seconds of video. America stared on in disgust.
"That's vulgar, knock it off!" America finally blurted out. "Why are you so happy about this?"
"Why? Why? You have to ask why?" England wiggled his butt back toward the couch, flopped down and took a long drink of beer. "Because! They have their tentacles into everything related to media and politics. Every boss I've had since Maggie has treated Murdoch like a kingmaker. Bloody sick of it!"
"You're saying they're biased, aren't you?" America always got defensive about this. Fox News was the most popular cable news channel in America. If people liked it so much, they couldn't be that bad, could they?
"Biased? This goes beyond bias, idiot! They hacked into people's cell phones and read private messages. They even deleted messages from a murdered girl's voice mail when it filled up, so there was room for more. Her family thought she was still alive because of that. Do you think that is even remotely okay?" England looked at the TV. "This is just the fucking beginning and there is much more to come, I can feel it. Makes me want to set up a resignation pool!" He cackled with glee.
America frowned. "That's awful. That's like those dead celebrity pools, betting on which old celebrity is going to die next."
Australia. "No it's not, it's fun!" He snickered and finished his beer. "Something smells really good." He looked over his shoulder at the kitchen, shocked that good food smells could exist in England's house.
"It is lots of fun!" England agreed, "It's not right for only one person to have so much power and influence over others!"
America slowly turned his head and glared. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means exactly what it's supposed to mean! Your corporate people act like they own the world and we're supposed to bend over and enjoy it!"
"You have corporations doing the same thing my corporations are!" America was getting angry now. How dare England try to blame this mess on him!
"Oh right … Cayman Islands!" England spat.
"Liechtenstein!" America fired back.
"… China!"
"Oh, that does it!" America growled, putting the sack of beer on the table. He jumped from the couch and faced him. "You really do think this is my fault, that I'm trying to undermine you? We work together!"
England jumped up from the couch. "Oh stuff it! You and your bloody 'special relationship'!" England groaned. "Do you know what the special relationship has been for me? Do you?" He leaned into America's face; the malice in his green eyes a complete mismatch for the smile on his lips. "A mouth full of 'hail to the chief' without a reach around!"
Australia nearly choked on his mouthful of beer. He swallowed with a cough and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He grinned at the look of shock on America's face.
"Now, if you don't mind I intend to continue fully enjoying my Berlin Wall coming down moment." England flopped back on the couch and drank more of his beer.
America looked at Australia, who only shook his head and held up his hands in a "Don't even try to get me involved in this." Pose. America growled, grabbed his beer and sat in a chair away from England.
"But, I can't lay this all at America's feet. Yes, his is an American citizen, but he came from your country first." England gleefully tapped on the laptop. "I know just how to thank the two of you. This year, Christmas will be at my house. I'll put up the biggest tree I can find right in the middle of the lounge room with a bloody enormous picture of Hugh Grant on top."
Both America and Australia's jaws dropped in unison.
England cackled with glee, "And I'm doing the cooking!"
In the kitchen, Canada chuckled when he heard his brothers scream in unison. He put the finishing touches on the large platter of poutine England had requested him to make in celebration; for once he was glad to go unnoticed. He hummed to himself as he hoisted the large plate, wondering what France's plans were for Christmas.
Author's Note - Props to The Daily Show's John Oliver for the title to this story.
Cheers!
