Chapter 2: Rehearsals...or Very Heated Arguments.
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The actors/actresses/chairs were now assembled. It was the evening after Germany had hand-picked them, in which they were to discuss and properly establish their individual parts. Sitting in a close circle in the middle of the exact same hall, chatter was abundant as Germany consulted his notes one last time before they began.
They'd had to postpone the meeting fifteen minutes because of several late-comers with their own batch of excuses the strict blonde nation was forced to put up with for the sake of the nativity's future. This didn't stop him from snapping his last available pencil in half in frustration and forcing Italy to give him one by holding him at gun-point.
China had seen a travelling buffet on his way and couldn't resist stuffing himself stupid, had passed out, and had to be carried by Italy, who was incapable of carrying anything that wasn't food related, threw his back out, and had to be helped by Japan, who in turn threw his back out. Eventually all three of them had to be carried on the back of Prussia (he's just that awesome), and thus all of them were just as horribly late as each-other. Everyone else came on time. Greece hadn't turned up at all, but then, he didn't need to. The only reason Japan had come along (despite also not needing to) was because he felt it was his duty, as the most calm and rational one, to assist Germany in upholding as much order and structure as there could be with all the nations that were currently present.
Clearing his throat, Germany instantly heralded silence to descend upon the ronom, and surely, every face turned expectantly to him.
"Velcome, everyone. First, allow me to express my gratitude for volunteering to take part in this community event, because, let's all be honest, we all have things we'd much rarzer be doing right now."
Everyone nodded and stared into space, muttering as they recalled all the things they could (and would rather) be doing at that moment. Germany himself began to imagine himself lazing on the sofa by the fire with some hot chocolate and nomming on Lindt chocolate and watching his German folk music channel while Prussia played Muller with Gilbrid.
Suddenly, he remembered his duty to bring this Christmas play to life and the joy it would bring to the community, and punched himself in the face as punishment for being so selfish.
His fellow nations began to think the stress was finally getting to his head.
"Right," Germany resumed hastily before anyone, including himself, began to have serious second-thoughts, "let's start by going clockvise around zhe circle and introducing ourselves and the character ve vill be playing."
England quirked an eyebrow.
"Germany, we already know who we are. We've been aqainted with each-other for centuries, I think that's enough time to know each-other's names. Unless, unbeknownst to me, we've all come down with Alzeimers at the same time," he pointed out as sardonically as he could muster.
Germany's face reddened.
"The guidebook said zhis was zhe best starter and I'm sticking to it!" he rumbled, eyes flashing dangerously.
All eyes stared at him, flabbergasted.
"You...have a guidebook for organising a nativity play?" they asked, in unison.
Germany puffed out his chest proudly.
"JA! Several actually; one for each type of play. The tragic plays, the comedy plays, the pedophile plays (I'm looking at you, France! [France: "...Ha?"])...But that's beside the point!" he barked, coming back to the situation at hand. "No more talking! Now, begin!"
Since Italy was on Germany's left, he started off, smiling all over his face like Santa had gave him a life-time supply of vouchers for Pizza Express.
"Ve! I'm Italy, and I'm-a playing Freaky Shepard Three and Constipated Wise Man Three!"
Japan looked hilariously dignified as he spoke.
"Herro, I am Japan. I look forward to being Mindless Soldier Standing By Herod But Not Actually Herod One. Greece is Mindless Soldier Standing By Herod But Not Actually Herod Two."
Japan had to breathe through a respirator for a few minutes after that.
Prussia gestured wildly, smacking Japan and France, who sat on his left, in the faces as he did so, Gilbird whizzing uncontrollably round his head, affected by his master's excitement.
"I'm The Awesome Me, and I'll be Freaky Shepard One and Constipated Wise Man One! Because I am Number One!"
France gave everyone an individual 'meet me in the basement at six with a a tonne of drink and an open mind!' look before speaking.
"Bonjour, I am France! I am playing the lovely Freaky (but sexy) Shepard Two and Constipated (but sexy) Wise Man Two!"
Russia's evil aura was burning hotter and larger than usual, and as a consequence searing the hair of those around him.
"Hello, I am Russia and the Creepy Narrator, da? I just make things up as I go along and have fun!"
"iJa...that is one of the many zhings I am dreading.../i" Germany muttered under his breath.
Russia giggled, seemingly oblivious. Seemingly.
China, next, huffed.
"I am China, and the Angry Wifeless Inkeeper, aru! Why 'wifeless', aru? You got some thing about single people?" he demanded, glaring at Germany, who pointedly looked the other way. "DON'T IGNORE ME, ARU! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!"
"So do I, da!" Russia put in, as if it was a perfectly normal statement.
Germany had never felt so violated in his life. Well, apart from that time when... Nevermind!
England rolled his eyes as his turn came.
"Hullo, you know who I am. If you don't, shame on you," he stated snobbishly, "Anyway, I'll be the Angel of the Lord, or Brittanica Angel, if you will," he added, somewhat fancifully, smirking.
America beamed and stood up as if to deliver a divine proclamation.
"I, the Hero, am gonna be playing the Dude Joseph! I also have a neat-o beard!" he shouted, holding said absurdly-long beard for all to see like it was a trophy.
Everyone stared, not quite sure how to respond. Everyone except England, that is.
"Good for you," he muttered dryly.
America, however, was perpetually oblivious to sarcasm, the concept which he could never understand, as England had deliberately never taught him about it for his own devious purposes.
Thus, he beamed proudly at England's 'praise'.
"Thanks, dude!"
Ukraine, sitting by the still-standing American, blushed.
"Um...I am Ukraine, and...I will play Mary!" she stammered, smiling shyly.
Russis beamed, happy that his big sister was expressing herself better.
Germany was last, and looked horribly conflicted, left eye twitching convulsively with the stain on his pride.
Japan smirked secretively.
"Hallo, I am Germany...And I am...Herod..."
The room collapsed in laughter. England snorted and chortled, America gaffawed, pointing for no reason at the blonde's red face, Prussia was in hysterics on the floor, Russia sniggered into his scarf, and France lent on Italy for support as he 'onhonhon'd into the Italian's shoulder, with Italy himself, like Ukraine, trying their best to courteousty hold back their giggles. Japan was laughing inside.
Instantly Germany snapped, seized a grenade, and threw it all the way to one side of the room, where it duly exploded with such an almighty BANG everyone screamed and dived under their chairs (or each other) for protection, America screaming "IT'S THE TERRORISTS! ENGLAND, BREATHE ON THEM!" "WHAT, MY BREATH DOESN'T SMELL YOU WANKER!", and Russia sheilding Ukraine with his fat bulk. He could have shielded them all, but he couldn't be arsed.
Only Germany was left sitting calm and composed in his seat, staring down at the terrified nations with a deadly expression of zero-mercy.
"Laughing now? Nein, I didn't zhink zho," he said quietly, as the others stared up at him in horror. "Now perhaps you vill take this a little bit more seriously and SHUT UP AND GET TO VERK!"
Everyone jumped and promptly fell over each other again as they staggering to their feet.
And with that, the week of rehersals began.
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Japan and Greece, naturally, were exempted from rehersals since they had absolutely nothing to do except stand by Germany and look imposing. The others, however, were not so lucky.
England was presiding over his scene with the three shepards (France, Prussia and Italy), refusing to wear his angel costume until the real thing, as he claimed he'd made some 'slight adjustments' to it.
Standing on his pedestal as the trio gathered around him, looking bored, England tried to liven the proceedings.
"Right, I heard old Kraut say you have to improvise before I come on-STOP SNIGGERING FRANCE, YOU SICK BASTARD!-so...well, get to it, I'll be over here..."
With that, he got off the pedestal and wandered off, leaving the three 'shepards' to their own devices.
Big mistake.
A mischevious France gave Prussia a shit-eating grin and slurred:
"Say, how many sheep did you fuck last night?"
Prussia shrieked with laughter as England watched on in horror.
"About fifty, I'm awesome!" he shouted, banging the floor with his fist in hysterics.
Italy beamed.
"I did two last night!"
The others gaped.
"WHAT?"
"RIGHT, HOLD EVERYTHING!" England shouted, storming over. "NO IMPROVISING UNTIL YOU FIND SOMETHING CLEAN TO TALK ABOUT!"
The trio groaned.
"Right, I'll just carry on from here. Ahem." Clearing his throat, England spread out his arms and tried to emit a holy aura. He ended up just looking constipated.
The others sniggered.
"Be NOT afraid!" the Brit proclaimed dramatically. "For I am the Angel of the Lord, and I bring you GLAD TIDINGS of GREAT joy!..."
England paused, basking in what he thought was his pious glory but what actually his fart wind.
France, confused, began to read England's lines from the script:
"'For tonight is-'"
"I know my own damn lines!" England snapped angrily.
"Oh, we thought you'd forgotten your lines!" France defended.
England frowned.
"That was the pause! The dramatic pause!"
The trio 'oh'd in unison and nodded sagely. England rolled his eyes in contempt and muttered 'morons' under his breath.
He took his dramatic stance again.
"Be NOT afraid!" the Brit proclaimed dramatically, again. "For I am the Angel of the Lord, and I bring you GLAD TIDINGS of GREAT joy!..."
Then England paused.
...
"'For tonight-'"
"THAT WAS THE PAUSE!" England shouted as France once again interrupted him.
"Oui, but you paused longer than you did last time and I thought you'd..." the other babbled.#
"FINE, FINE, JUST DON'T INTERRUPT AGAIN!" England barked, his patience fizzling out faster than one of Scotland's many, many cigerrettes.
France rolled his eyes and gave him the finger while England was busy primming himself.
"...But you'll need a prompt!" Prussia put in innocently.
England glared with pure fury, stomped down from his station and stormed over to Italy "RIGHT-ITALY CAN PROMPT ME THEN, CAN'T HE!" he spat, throwing his script at the trembling Italian and stomping back again.
"S-si, right...!" Poor Italy stammered.
"Not very angelic, is he?" France muttered to his albino companion, who duly sniggered.
England let out a long, haggard sigh, like an angry balloon deflating, closing his eyes and mentally preparing himself once again.
...
"'Be not-afrai-'"
"NO, BE AFRAID!" England snarled, lunging at the three cowering 'shepards' with absolute raging fury in his eyes, hand outstretched and ready to murder them all right there and then. "BE VERY AFRAID!"
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Germany was having similar problems controlling a very unwilling and vengeful China, who kept screwing up his own lines just to further irritate the blond nation. They were stuck at the scene when Mary and Jospeh approached the inn in which the virgin was to give birth, Germany sitting a little way away to survey the performance.
"Inkeeper, dude," a very awkward America said, arm around a nervous and heavily pregnant Ukraine. "Do you have a room where we may rest?"
"Yes, f-for I am great with...child..." Ukraine added softly.
China, leaning on a table as he would lean out of the top half of the door to the inn on the night of the play, huffed.
"No, no room! We are fully booked because of Chinee New Year, aru!" he snapped childishly, folding his arms.
America, still half-in character, foolishly tried to reason with him.
"Dude, that's not today, surely you can-!"
"I say there no room, go away and have child in gutter, you worthless whore!"
Ukraine burst into tears and ran away, pursued by a worried America calling out her name.
Germany promptly exploded.
"CHINA, VHAT THE HELL IS VRONG VIZH YOU?" he bellowed at the unconcerned Asian. "ANY MORE OF ZHIS NONSENSE AND I SHALL TELL SVITZERLAND YOU BROKE HIS CLOCK!"
China paled.
"Oooh, you damn Westerners, aru!" he grumbled, stamping his foot in frustration.
Germany sighed, calming down, but still very irritated. He looked at China with an expression a mixture of anger and disappointment; disappointment in China himself.
"Look," he said sternly. "I don't care if you're not a Christian, and I don't care that you've been somehow forced to do zhis against your vill. But what I do care about is your attitude. You let your stupid ego get the better of you and seek to do whatever it takes to ruin this nativity play for everybody by botching your own performance and hindering others. You are insulting those of us who have given up their time on this special holiday to volunteer to take part in this community event, and those who go out of there way to watch and appreciate the great story being told-whether it is true or not. Now I don't care what Japan told you, I vill not allow you to continue on if you insist to act in such an insulting and childish manner! So, I will give you the ultimatum. Either man up and play your part properly, or get out of this hall and stay out!"
China gazed at the furious German nation, stunned. The other's words seemed to affect him, as he looked down in shame and did not speak for a while.
Germany, seeing the silence as an act of defiance, slammed his fist on the table, got up and grabbed his coat.
"Fine, be that way. I will just-"
"Wait."
Germany stopped and looked up at China's face, and was amazed to find him in tears.
"I...I will do my part, aru," he said, with conviction, smiling a little. "And I will do it the right way."
A slow, pleased smile spread across the blonde's face to match China's own, and nodded firmly.
"Sehr gut, that's the kind of spirit I want to see!" he cried proudly, setting his coat back down and walking over to where Ukraine and America had left. "Jetzt, let us continue!"
China nodded and wiped his eyes with his over-sized sleeve.
Germany peered round the door through which the other two had fled and, having clearly seen them both coming back, shouted "COME ON YOU SLACKERS! THE SCENE ISN'T JUST GOING TO PLAY ITSELF!"
Frantic apologies where coupled by the laughter of a four-thousand-year-old Asian nation that had discovered that age did not always mean wisdom.
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Lastly, there was the stubborn Russia, who refused to edit his own made-up lines, among them being "And so Jesus became one with Russia", "And so Herod, the evil Nazi wurst-pig slaughtered all the defenceless babies with bloodlust and prejudice-In fact, I implore that all audience members that want to honour their memories please attack Herod after the show, and shove his face into the dirt like the filth he is...", and "look at the smoking-hot legs on that inkeeper, God I would love to chop them off and take them home..."
After three hours of heated debate on Germany's part, the blonde simply gave up trying and told the Russian to 'do whatever' provided it wasn't too distressing. They already had France and his older brother in the mix as it was...
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When asked about how Germany himself was going to do his own part, the stubborn German maintained that he had his own ideas and would reveal them on the night. On his way home in the frosty star-lit cobbled street in which his Bavarian holiday home was situated, Germany was rather surprised to see Spain leading a donkey along towards him, who offered it for 'Mary' to ride during the play, giving the creature to him on the spot. When the blonde invited the other in for some cake and beer, the Spaniard declined, saying he had only dropped by to give the donkey to him. Thanking him gratefully as he departed, Germany was on his way again, donkey in tow and nibbling at his hair. Frowning, Germany made a mental note that it would probably be best not use hair gel for the next few days; no point if a donkey was going to ruin its work.
Arriving at his small, traditional German home, he let himself in and entered the dimly lit living room, hanging his coat and scarf on the wooden coat-hanger next to the door, wiped his feet on the mat, slipped them off, and went inside. All was hushed. He could hear Prussia's loud snoring from upstairs, the albino nation having gone home far earlier than him. The house smelled of long-since burnt out logs in the hearth, holly and Christmas cakes. Sighing contentedly, Germany's eyes fell upon the Christmas tree (a real one, as Germany would rather have sold all his wurst supply than buy a fake one) standing in the corner, the countless thin strips of lemmeta hanging over each branch glittering like tassels of silver, crimson candels sitting atop their golden holders on the various branches, blown out by Prussia, Germany looked up at the Christmas angel on the very top of the moderately-tall specimen, smiling and bursting with the innocence and joy Christmas could bring to people and nations alike.
She had been part of the special holiday since Germany could remember, always there, smiling. Just as China had been when he had finally realised his errors and chose to correct them; just as Ukraine and America had when the Asian nation had apologised for his appalling behaviour; just as Russia had when Germany had finally given in and allowed him free reign; just as France, Italy and Prussia had when they came back from rehersals and told Germany they had everything sorted out, and that he needn't worry about a thing, even helping with the clearing up of the hall after hours; just as Japan had when he unexpectedly turned up to give everyone biscuits and cakes during the rehersals; just as England had when he gave up being angry and laughed with the rest of them as they tucked in to their treats, sitting together in a unfieid circle in the middle of the old hall.
Smiling himself, Germany found himself thinking than perhaps the nativity would not turn out so bad.
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TO BE CONTINUED!