A/N: There is no way America has a six-pack. I do not care how much he works out--if he is male and eats that much, he ain't gonna have abs. Just to let you know.

Also, in this fic, the meeting things are once a week. Because I said so. :P

Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! (About the yaoi question: uh, yes to both, I guess. I just do not support/agree with/blahblahblah about yaoi. *sweatdrop*)

Keep reviewing and I will keep writing! :)

America, humming and still munching a hamburger, walked up to his front door, which was ajar.

"Hm?" He cautiously nudged the door open. The sudden rush of smoke made him cough and wave at the air until he could breathe. Wiping some of the residue off his glasses, he flicked on the light and peered around the room.

Bullet holes specked the floor and the lower part of the wall, while some scorches from the lasers ripped all the way across the length of the foyer. There was a small hole in the ground where his mine must have gone off—it wasn't that powerful, only designed to cripple invaders, not destroy them—and a fish and pieces of broken imitation wood were lying forlornly to the side.

"It must have been that darn Mexico again!" America huffed. "Well, I bet I've finally scared her off for good!" He laughed victoriously, closing the door behind him.

"Idiot," Mexico muttered, ducking back behind the living room couch.

"Italy, wake up!" Germany yelled, kicking the side of the bed. "We have to finish our training early today so we can get to the meeting on time!"

"Wait, don't go, ladies," Italy mumbled in his sleep, rolling over on his side.

"Wake up!"

America yawned, sitting up in his bed. "Morning already?" he mumbled, flopping his feet over the side of his bed. He stood and stretched, looking around his room. "Ah, hey…" He plodded over to his scale. "I haven't gone on this in a little while,"—he stepped onto the scale—"but I'm sure there won't be much of a dif…fer…ence…" He trailed off, staring blankly at the scale's readout.

"Wha…?" He shook his head. "This can't be right…" He fiddled with the slides on top of the scale for a while, but it made no difference to the reading.

"H-Have I really gained that much weight?" he stuttered, stepping back from the scale. "I mean, I have been eating a couple more Supersized meals a day… But… 25 pounds?!"

Bzz! Bzz! Bzz! America turned to his alarm clock. "Why's this thing set?" he muttered, turning it off. "Wait, it's Friday, isn't it?! There's a meeting today!" He checked the time. "Well, I don't want to be late…" He clunked the clock back down on its cluttered stand and rushed over to his closet, picking out the outfit in the center. As he started to put it on, however, he soon noticed something was wrong.

"I really have gained weight!" he cried, slumping down. "Oh, I can't go to the meeting like this! But… I guess I have to go…" He sighed, instinctively walking into his kitchen. "Well, I guess I shouldn't eat anything big for breakfast… Or maybe I shouldn't eat breakfast at all…" He shook his head, determining the latter suggestion to be blasphemy. He looked around his pantry a while until something caught his eye.

"Perfect!"

"Well, I wonder if the prank is going to work?" Canada mumbled, walking over to the meeting room. "After all I've gone through, I hope I at least get to laugh a little…" He stepped into the room and looked for his brother.

"Say, England," America, awkwardly slumped behind the table, was saying, "could I borrow a couple thousand dollars?"

"Wh-what?! No!" England glared at him. "Why do you need 'a couple thousand dollars', anyway?!"

"Oh, it's only money," America replied. "And I just need a loan to fix my foyer…"

"Bull! You still haven't paid me back the loan I gave you years ago!"

"Well, uh, about that…" America's voice soon faded into the background as the countries in attendance grew louder.

Canada glanced up at the clock. It was two minutes past starting time, but… No one would hear him if he announced they should start, especially in this noise. He opened his mouth, anyway.

"Um—"

"Everyone, quiet!" Germany barked. The noise started to settle down. "It's time to start the meeting! We'll present our cases one at a time." He paused, suppressing a grin. "America, why don't you go first?"

"All right," America replied in his usual fashion, though he seemed oddly ruffled by the concept of occupying his normal niche in the meeting. He stood up, and a chorus of snickers immediately started among the other nations.

The buttons near the top of America's shirt were straining to stay in place, while the lowermost buttons were apparently impossible to fasten; a good portion of his stomach was visible underneath the black belt that struggled to encircle his waist. That combined with the waistband on his pants, which managed to give him a rather convincing muffin top, made for a very unflattering appearance.

"Have you, uh, gained a little weight, America?" chuckled Russia.

"N-No! Y-Yes… A-A little bit…" America muttered. He put his hand into the brown paper bag he had brought with him.

"And you're still going to eat the whole time?" scoffed England.

"It's okay; I'm, uh, on a diet now!" America replied, pulling a green bell pepper from his bag.

"I thought you were on a diet of Japan's food," China said, glancing at his brother.

"He got sick of all the fish," Japan replied. "He gave it up after he lost the amount of weight he was aiming for."

"Ah." China sighed. "So, you're going on some fad diet now, America?"

"Well, I wouldn't say fad," America replied, looking at the vegetable in his hand. "Besides, this has been proven to work! I saw it on television!" He took a bite and somehow managed to swallow it before he continued talking. "Whenever I get hungry, I just eat a bell pepper!"

"Whenever you get hungry? No diet that lets you eat that much is going to work," England scoffed.

"Anyway!" America started. "As for my report…" He took another bite of the pepper and returned to his usual unintelligible, mouth-full speech.

"All right, then," Germany said. "Meeting concluded. Let's go home." All the nations but America stood.

"Oh? Do you need help getting up, America?" Russia responded with a smile.

"No!" America roared. "Definitely not from you!"

"So I need to find someone else to help you up?"

"No, no, no!" America shouted. "I don't need anyone's help! I can stand up perfectly fine! See?!" America got out of his chair and stood up stiffly."There! Are you happy n—" America stopped himself at the sound of a small string snapping. He watched in horror as one of the buttons on his shirt sprung off, flying clear to the other side of the room and striking Latvia in the forehead.

America dashed out of the room, leaving the new wave of completely raucous laughter behind.

A/N: Aw, poor America. Oh, well, he should not suffer any more since the prank is over... Or is it?! Stay tuned for the next chapter!