You can thank stereotypes for the inspiration for this chapter. Today in English class, we were having a debate on morals and stuff, and I got the chance to speak. I started making a point, and this girl totally interrupted me! That is my pet peeve guys, don't effing talk while I'm talking. I have been know to viciously smack people who interrupt me, but this time I just turned around and said "Ex-cuse me?". This time… After class she told me I acted like I was French. Very confusing. I'm pretty sure she was trying to insult me, but I didn't (surprise, surprise) find it very offensive. She's nice enough though, just a bit opinionated. Not that any of you care. However, you can thank her for making me remember this chapter, because I was literally writing sentences at a time with no inspiration, and had two different versions with no way to connect. Long A/N is long.

HETALIA ISN'T MINE DUDES!

England's thoughts

Screen

….ooooOOOOoooo….

The screen was showing France with his own cup. France took a small sip before his eyes widened and he downed the whole thing.

"C'est magnifique!" He exclaimed, licking the inside of the cup. An odd expression was settling over his features. But it wasn't his "rape face".

He looks like a bloody squirrel.

"What the hell is wrong with your face, aru?" China asked.

Canada seemed to be overcome with giggles.

"Why so giggly?" America asked in a creepy voice, giving an unnaturally wide, maniacal grin.

Canada gave him a "seriously" face and replied, "Watch. You'll see soon enough."

France was already a vivid shade of lobster-red.

"Why are you already red Frog?"

"Ohonhonhonhon," His laugh was weak and strained. "No reason at all."

France jumped around the room and the screen suddenly switched to him pulling on a light jacket. He wasn't in his boxers anymore. Well, he might have been, but there were gray jeans on over them. His French-flag patterned shirt was untucked. Not a usual for the Frenchman.

France was acting like a completely normal person. He just wasn't acting very much like France. But the look on his face contradicted his actions. There was something weird going on...

In the end, after a lot of salt-and-peppering, France ended up in a large shopping mall, Water something-or-other.

Walking into a clothes store, he looked around a bit, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

England couldn't shake the feeling that there was something undeniably wrong. He was correct.

"Can I help you sir?" A saleswoman asked flirtatiously.

The countries waited for France to start hitting on her, but that didn't happen. Holy Tea. There isn't a hint of lust in his eyes.

"Que?"

"Sorry, sir." The woman's face screwed up in concentration. "No parle francais."

France tilted his head and stared at her.

This went on for about ten seconds before the woman became concerned. "Sir? Sir? Are you alright sir?"

"Soruxnskh." He said.

The nations all exchanged looks. What in the mothering hell was that?

"Are you okay sir?"

France's head tilted the other way, and he spaced out again.

France nodded. "Oui."

The saleslady gave him a very strange look, and France seemed to decide it was time to leave the store.

On his way down Michigan Avenue, he stopped to hug a girl wearing a "J'adore Paris" hoodie. France continued on, blissfully unaware of the confusion he had just caused.

The screen salt-and-peppered for a bit before France was shown walking through Millenium Park. The Bean stood proudly on display, and France braved the crowd of people to check it out.

He caught sight of his warped reflection and screamed bloody murder. "I am 'ideous! No one look at me!"

This of course, just made everyone look at him. The look on his face was one of absolute horror.

England threw back his head and laughed. America paused the film and the nations all watched the gentleman completely break down. Tears streamed down his face, and he took great gulping breaths, face redder than France's. It was contagious, and soon the countries were laughing. It almost seemed backwards though. While Russia and China were laughing rather normally (even if they didn't usually laugh), Japan and Canada had their arms around England, and all three were in stitches. Germany was trying to hold it together, but Italy giggling next to him coaxed a grin, and then a full-belly laugh that rivaled Santa Claus came forth. *America was completely silent but for the odd breath here and there. His face was purple with the force of his silent laughter. France was sitting there staring at the paused screen, stuck in his glorious past and not even noticing the laughter. Finally the clip was played again, and the nations turned their attention to the screen.

"Stop! Stop!" France shrieked. He froze. "Gafn! Jlac!" He froze again. And then he ran

And ran.

And ran.

And ran.

He finally stopped and his stomach let out the mother of all grumbles.

He looked around suspiciously, trying to find a place to eat.

All these restaurants would probably give him food poisoning.

"Ed Debevics?" France read the sign.

America and Canada let out little snorts. Why?

"Eat and Get Out?" He read the sign next to the door. "What a 'orrible thing to put on a restaurant!"

"That's the point." A dark-haired woman with a six year old girl said, standing next to him.

"The point?" France asked, looking quite confused.

"The fun part about the restaurant is that the people are very rude to you sir! Right Juliet?" The little girl piped, jumping up and down. Her light brown hair was in two little pigtails with little clips shaped like chickens on either side of her head.

Juliet nodded.

"Mom said we could get ice cream, right?" The little girl asked, tugging on the woman's shirt.

"You betcha Jeanne, big sister's honor."

"Rude? Why would you ever go to a restaurant where the people are rude to you? The point of a restaurant is for the experience." France had clearly heard barely a word of their conversation after hearing that people went to restaurants so that people are rude to them.

"It's definitely an experience." Juliet laughed.

"It's really fun!" Jeanne smiled a little-girl smile. "Are you from France mister?"

"Oui." France seemed oddly un-flirtatious. His five (or twelve) hours weren't over yet though.

"That means yes!" Jeanne was very pleased with herself. "I'm in French class at school, and I'm the best at the fruits!"

"Is that so?" France asked. Then his stomach let out the father of all growls.

"Let's go in," Juliet jerked her head.

"Yeah!" Jeanne cheered. "Can he sit with us?" She whispered in her sister's ear. "He's funny and he dresses weird."

The countries all snorted, giving each other nods in agreement.

Juliet blushed and nodded. "Would you like to sit with us. You'll be all sad sitting alone."

France's head bobbed enthusiastically. "Oui Mademoiselle. Trés magnifique!"

"That means 'Yes miss, very awesome'." Jeanne informed her sister.

Juliet covered her mouth, hiding a slight curve to her lips. "Close enough."

The screen salt-and-peppered once again, and France was poking suspiciously at a piece of chicken.

"It's too bad you went to the bathroom while the server was here," Juliet was saying. "You missed the whole fun part."

France didn't seem to care, and just ate the piece of chicken.

"Hey lady, I didn't realize you had a boy toy," Called out a voice. It was the server.

"What's a boy toy?" Jeanne asked innocently.

"Nothing." Juliet said quickly, turning to glare at the server. The man, wearing fifties-diner style clothing with a large amount of buttons on the apron shrugged insincerely. His name tag read "BACON."

"You're name is Bacon?" France asked curiously.

"Nah, what's your name Francey-pants?"

"Je m'appelle Francis."

"Fancy language ya got there," Bacon drawled. "But I have no clue what you said."

"You're dumb," Jeanne said, looking ridiculously pleased that she was allowed to be rude here. "His name is Francis silly. Everyone knows what "Je m'appelle" means."

"Oh I'm dumb?"

"Yeah," Jeanne was enjoying this a lot. France looked nostalgic.

Well, America wasn't quite that rude on a daily basis, but if he had ever been brought to that type of restaurant, he would have be acting the same, if not worse. *sigh* Dammit! Get away Nostalgia!

"You have chickens in your hair." Bacon said, winking at Juliet.

"They're clips stupid." Jeanne looked satisfied with herself.

"You're a rude little girl, aren't you?" Bacon asked.

"Yes," And the "rude little girl" looked so smug about it the adults all chuckled.

France suddenly sat up straight.

Maybe I'll finally get some good blackmail material.

"I have to go." He said. France threw some Euros down on the table and ran like China whenever Korea tries to "claim his breasts". Da~ze.

Salt-and-peppering

What a tasteless statue.

**Chicago's Marilyn Monroe statue was there. The statue was a 3D version of her "skirt up" picture, and England got a horrible sense of foreboding. France. In public. With a statue of a beautiful woman. With her skirt up. Bloody hell. At least I'll get my blackmail.

France ran across traffic to the statue. He stood directly behind it and stared right at the lacy underwear. His whole body was quivering.

All the nations groaned. All the bottled-up lust from the whole day was there. All of it at once.

They really should've seen it coming. Within ten seconds, France was sitting comfortably in the top of the statue's dress. He looked like he might be in heaven, if it weren't for the concrete set of assets on either side of him.

"I wish I remembered this." France said wistfully.

"That's kinda gross dude."

Sirens in the distance came closer and closer and soon France was sitting in the back of a squad car. The policeman was a younger man, and he had a large grin on his face the whole car ride to the station.

Salt-and-peppering and the screen reformed outside France's hotel room.

"What the hell dude?" America was dragging France by his upper arm. America seemed to be unable to keep his eyes open, but France was bouncing like an excitable toddler.

"Just stay in your hotel room. There's a disease going around. Americans are immune, but the French are especially susceptible."

"What is this disease?"

"It'll infect your vital regions and they'll fall off. If you leave the room, you can say goodbye to the Eiffel Tower."

France's eyes nearly popped out of head.

Then there was a whirring sound and the film shut off completely.

America sniggered at the obvious lie he had told France.

"Very funny, who's next?" Canada asked. I didn't know he could use sarcasm. I guess I rubbed off on him more than I thought.

"Does anyone want to be?" America asked.

The disbelieving looks he got in return answered the question.

"Me!" Korea burst through the wall.

"What the hell?" America exclaimed. "You aren't Kool-Aid man!"

Canada bit down on his hand to keep from laughing.

"Why are you here, aru?" China muttered.

Korea smiled nervously, backing away from China. "I'll just sit here Da~ze!" He exclaimed, sliding in between America and Japan.

"Pick a video." Russia commanded.

America scowled, but began to do so.

"Eenie meenie miinie moe. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers let him go. Eenie Meenie miinie moe." America pointed at the screen of his phone. His face fell. "No, I don't wanna play that one." He whined. "Eenie,-"

"-Just play it wanker!"

America sighed and started the next video.

….ooooOOOOoooo….

France's thoughts on the matter.

Boobs. Everywhere. Touch them screen-me!

No, you just hugged that girl without a single grope.

What did I even do? I've lost my amour! No! Touch that girl with the cheeky sister! NOW!

Oh. Well at least I got some, even if they were concrete. Size over real anyway. That will be my new motto. I wonder what kind of seal I could make myself with that? Hmm…

….ooooOOOOoooo….

I should be arrested for writing this. Quick explanation The Five Hour Energy temporarily took away any desire for love or lust. It also screwed up his speaking abilities. This chapter was really crappy, I want to apologize. France, for me at least, is hardest for me to characterize. Even though I'm pretty similar to America, I can write best from England's point of view. No clue why.

ORDER YO!

Canada

France

America

China

Italy and Germany

Japan

England.

NOTE: I skipped down the street singing. I actually skipped the mile-and-a-bit to school (That's about 1.7-1.8 kilometers, so's-ya-knows), singing. Plus I danced around my cousin's kitchen a little on my way. That is why America is next.

I've got something extra-special planned for England, and America will be next, but if anyone really cares about the rest of the order, I don't mind changing it around :D

…..

*All my friends laugh loudly, but when something is really funny, there won't be a sound in the room. That's the best kind of laugh.

**GOD I HATE THAT STATUE SO MUCH! IT'S SO FAR FROM CLASSY, AND IT CAN ACTUALLY RUIN A TRIP TO DOWNTOWN CHICAGO. IT'S JUST SO VULGAR! Sorry, I'm done. But I still cannot stand that statue