Heroic America's Legendary Quest for the Perfect Food!
Chapter Three- If I share my opinion it will only worsen things!
A few days later, America had readied Phase Three. And by that, he meant he'd obtained a singular, absurdly long spaghetti noodle. Even a hero like himself had to struggle to find such a thing, but he was sure it would in time be well worth the effort.
The members of Team Hamburger Pizza (which was a name only Japan refused to acknowledge) had gathered in another internet cafe to enact Phase Two. It wasn't that different from the one they'd met in last, except it was in Austria (Prussia suggested this, saying it'd be a good strategic location, but really just thought involving his dear old "friend" would piss him off) and also had more than two people in it. Who were all giving the two shouting guys and the really quiet one weird looks as they plotted how to turn one very long noodle into a set-up.
"So, I say we should just get some sauce and meatballs and set it out somewhere and just say there's pasta there really loudly," America suggested. "I mean, Italy just shows up whenever someone mentions pasta, right?"
Japan shook his head. "I think you may be confusing Italy for Russia. You do not exactly summon-"
"You called?" questioned a voice behind a nearby potted plant. Slowly, Russia rose from it, a dark aura emanating as he did so.
Prussia proceeded to shriek very loudly and girlishly. "No! No we did not!", he shrilly insisted, everyone else in the cafe giving him odd looks.
"Oh, okay then," Russia said, sinking back into the potted plant. Shivers ran through the other countries for a solid minute before they continued.
"So like, how do we get Germany and Italy in the same place to eat the spaghetti?", America questioned, casting several uneasy glances towards the potted plant in case Russia was still there.
He said this like it was a very difficult thing to do, to get the two to be in the same location. America's special talent was making big problems out of tiny ones, so this wasn't unexpected. Or at least it was more expected than Prussia pulling out a very long piece of yellowed parchment out of his bag and flaunting it as the solution. "Well, it just so happens that I made a list of ways to get West off my tail a while back!", he exclaimed.
"How long ago was 'a while back'?", Japan questioned in a flat tone as Prussia rolled up the paper until he arrived at a section made of what seemed to be copy paper that was taped on.
Shrugging, Prussia muttered that he'd been "working on it for a few centuries" before pointing at a bit that was definitely written in bright green gel pen. "Here, this one might work."
It read "terrorize the cute Italian with a stick until West shows up and saves him and then leave food and/or wine to distract cute Italian so West will end up staying with him while I leave and go do things". One of their group thought this was a wonderful idea. The other one thought it was incredibly stupid. Just guess which was which.
However, before either could voice their opinion, Prussia noticed an orange checkmark next to the idea. "Eh, actually, think I did that one already," he muttered. "Here, there are more."
As he unrolled a bit more of the list, America chuckled at the length. "Wow, that thing's longer than my list of everyone who's mad at me right now!", he remarked.
"Let me guess, most of that list is just England and Russia?"
"Well, them and Norway."
Japan tried to figure out why Norway of all people would be upset at America, eventually arriving at "Was it about all of your tourists flooding his place after that Disney movie?"
"Actually, he's let that one go," America stated, snickering at his own terrible pun as Japan made a note to tell America to add him to that list. "He's mad at me now about what happened at that Christmas party last year."
Most nations, the still searching Prussia included, knew immediately what it was he spoke of. Japan, on the other hand, had not been at this Christmas party, as going would have broken his impressive three-thousand-and-thirty-four party long streak of not going to any parties ever. Even his own. So, he felt a bit stupid for having to ask what this meant.
Oddly, America seemed almost… embarrassed by this? How was that possible? Did America even get embarrassed over anything? "Oh, um, I might have sort of gotten under the mistletoe with, er, Iceland by accident."
"Like that was an accident," Prussia interjected, not looking up from his list.
"No, I was trying to get Lithuania, I swear!", America frantically assured them, not noticing that Russia had come back out of the potted plant and glared at him for a good thirty seconds before sinking back in. "He just sort of came over and we didn't notice each other but then we were both like 'hey it's the rule so we better do the thing' and then we made out and Norway chased me out with a broadsword and hasn't spoken to me since! And then he used fireworks later that night to insult me in Cantonese!"
That last thing had most certainly not been Norway's doing. Prussia, who had actually been there, could have easily told him that, but it was way funnier to let him keep being spectacularly wrong. Japan, who had not been there, also could have told him, but he was already starting to regret every decision he'd made in his entire life leading him to that very moment so he decided to keep his mouth shut and try not to make things worse.
Thankfully, Prussia chose that moment to finally find his other plan. "Here we go! This one's way better!", he declared, pointing at a purple-written passage.
It read "terrorize the cute Italian with a stick while wearing a mask until West shows up and saves him and then leave food and/or wine to distract cute Italian so West will end up staying with him while I leave and go do things".
America seemed not to notice that it was the exact same plan as before, as he exclaimed "Yeah, man, that's way better! Let's do that one!" Japan noticed, but he was still trying to keep his mouth shut as to not escalate things.
And so not too terribly long later, the three of them were in a random Austrian park setting up the trap. America had insisted upon being the one to terrorise Italy with a stick, as being the hero, he knew the most about proper villains. Prussia was fine with this, and set up the singular spaghetti noodle on a plate with meatballs and red sauce while Japan hid in the bushes and set up a camera. Despite him knowing that this was without doubt a stupid plan, he was determined to get video footage of it because darn it, if he wasn't going to milk this for all it was worth and post it on the internet, then his name wasn't Sunrise Land.
Wearing a mask and brandishing a stick, America searched the area for Italy, who they had called and told there would be free pasta a while ago. And, sure enough, a fast-moving blur soon appeared on the horizon, signaling Prussia to hide behind a tree.
"Alright, mister weird masked guy, where is the food?", Italy asked once he stumbled to a stop.
"Right there, man!", America replied, and as Italy thanked him, he realized that wasn't what he was supposed to do. "Uh, I mean, um, rawr!"
He then proceeded to poke Italy a few times with the stick he was holding, who cried out and quickly ran to hide behind a tree. Actually, the very same one Prussia had hid behind. "Prussia!", exclaimed the cute Italian. "Your brother isn't here, so you get to save me!"
Stuttering out a few unconnected syllables as Italy pushed him forward and towards the masked America, he looked back at the cowering cinnamon roll and declared "The awesome me is not involved with any of this in any way whatsoever! Just get my less awesome brother to punch him in the face!"
"Oh, but he told me he was in a meeting so he'd have his phone and Italy-Danger-Detecting-Sonar off," Italy protested. "Can't you punch him? Please?"
It seemed to take all of his willpower, but Prussia mustered a faint "No."
Italy then proceeded to frown, walk out from behind Prussia, and punch America in the face himself before running over to the plate of pasta. "Hey, this isn't right!", he protested. "Only America puts the meatballs in it like that!"
"Mister weird masked guy, if you're gonna call me all the way out here, you should really make the pasta right," Italy stated, and then ran off in the same direction he'd come from.
Despite desperately wanting to say "you should have listened to him back two chapters ago," Japan kept his mouth shut. In part to keep the fourth wall intact, but mostly because he feared what he might have to hear if he opened it again.
America, however, simply took the mask off to reveal the black eye Italy had left him with, dropped the stick, and plucked the meatballs out of the pasta. "Well, I guess if that failed miserably, I can at least add some more tomatoes and use this for Phase Five."
He then walked off in the same direction Italy had gone as his partners realized what Phase Five was and collectively decided it would be a lot more entertaining if they didn't stop him from getting another black eye.
AN- First of all, super sorry about the four month wait. Yeah… never meant for this to take so long. I just had the worst writer's block on Chapter Three and then got sidetracked with my main project and never got back around to this until just now. But I'll probably be updating this every so often from now off. Maybe not super frequently, but hopefully more frequently than once every several months. Also, I am sincerely sorry for the Frozen joke. But that's about all I'm gonna apologize for. So, thank you for reading! -Twilight Joltik
PS, I realize the outline I wrote for this initially is kind of terrible? So, if anyone has any ideas for the path this story should take, kindly share them with me~
