It really is a crying shame that the world is such a grand place.

So many beautiful, fascinating nations, all thrown together on one picturesque planet, but spaced just so that it was a real pain in the ass to be able to fully appreciate all of them.

And oh, how France loved to appreciate them.

From the carefree and spicy Latinos to the bitter but proud British, from the traditional and flavorful Asians to the adventurous and diverse Americans, from the unique Europeans to the exotic Africans and everyone in-between; France loved them all and wouldn't be satisfied without having at least a peu taste of each.

This was why France was probably the only nation in the entire world who actually didn't mind attending world meetings.

"Okay everyone, listen up, I have some super cool ideas to fix this whole world hunger thing!" America announced from the front of the table, blissfully unaware of the groans and moans of irritation from the rest of the room. "First of all, I have one word for all of you…FLDSMDFR!"

Oh, bless that boy's sweet ass. England must have dropped him on his head as a child. At least twice.

Probably more.

"America," Germany grumbled, his head resting in his palm. "That word doesn't have any vowels in it. It is not a word. In fact, I am curious as to how you were even able to pronounce it."

The younger nation pouted. "But…but it makes it rain food…"

Germany pushed him aside where he was quickly pulled back into his seat by a rather handsy England, whose hand lingered just a big longer than necessary on his shoulder. "If anyone has any other ideas for solving world hunger, feel free to share," Germany practically begged, eyes trailing over uncomfortable and ignoring faces.

France held up his hand proudly and was immediately granted permission to come to the front of the room, despite the moan of an irritated Brit.

"Bonjour mes amis! Beautiful day, non?" France flashed the room a brilliant, seductive smile, almost feeling guilty as more than one nation swooned into a faint.

Almost.

"I have a très magnifique solution to our little food problème."

"France! I want to have your babies!" A voice called out suddenly.

France grinned, winking at his admirer. "Merci, Spain!" He sang. Romano punched the grinning nation in the stomach. "My first suggestion is to completely cut off food supply to the British islands, as anything that crosses into that land ultimately bursts into flame."

"Excuse me?" England snapped. France shrugged.

"The truth hurts, mon ami."

"Not as much as a kick to the nads, you sodding-"

Prussia pumped his fist into the air. "Fuck yeah! Fight!"

All and all, the meeting was relatively uneventful. Until of course, America invited a small cluster of nations to the bar to wind down.

That was when things got interesting.

"And-and you know what-what else? I…I bloody hate that jacket. It's-it's stupid. Like yer face."

France cocked an eyebrow in amusement at the drunken, slurring England and turned his head to regard the almost as drunk, irritated looking American.

"Oh-oh yeah? Well, yoooou have giant caterpillar eyebrows!" At this he smiled proudly, obviously believing this was the best insult in the world. France turned his attention back to England, who was now gaping in shock.

"You-you-you bloody twat! If I didn't want in your pants so bad I would punch you so hard it would cause an earthquake."

"Yeah? Well I would totally get off on that, so suck it!"

England smirked impishly, leaning over to gaze into the American's half lidded eyes. "Don't mind if I do, you wanker."

"Now you just hold on one bloody minute!" England snapped. France smiled coolly.

"What is the matter, Angleterre?"

England narrowed his eyes dangerously. "I know exactly where that filth of yours is headed and I am putting a stop to it this moment. Not only is that completely inappropriate, but it is also entirely inaccurate, and I refuse to allow you to infect the poor president's mind with that rubbish. Don't you agree, America?"

America sat on the bench, eyes wide and unwavering from France. "Then what happened?" He asked in awe.

"America!" England gasped. France chuckled.

"I suppose I will skip that part for now, if la prude is not confortable." The entire cell sighed in relief, save for Prussia for let out a small mumble of annoyance. "Now, where was I? Ah yes…"

France lazily threw his arm around the chair next to him, giving the young, cute Canadian sitting in it a small start. He smiled flirtatiously. "Bonjour mon cheri. Avoir l'amusement?" Are you having fun?

The adorable little thing flushed. "Ah, oui je suis, merci." Yes I am, thank you.

Oh how France loved it when other nations spoke his wonderful language of l'amour.

He leaned ever so slightly in the younger nation's direction and ran a delicate finger around one of Canada's soft curls. "Le mon cher Canada. Voulez vous coucher avec moi," France purred, lowering his eyelids as he whispered sweetly into his ear. "Ce soir?"

Canada blushed wildly, and found himself getting closer and closer to the sexy European. "F-France… I-"

"Goddamnit, frog!"

France chuckled sheepishly, waving his hands in surrender. "Pardon! Pardon! I could not help myself!"

America shuddered. "Dude, that's my brother. And why the hell were you quoting Moulin Rouge?" Everyone raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction. "N-not like I've ever watched it or anything."

America's boss sighed deeply. "Please continue Francis…but lay off the porn, okay?"

"If you insist, monsieur." France winked. The president rolled his eyes.

It didn't take long for France to completely lose interest in his companion's sexually fueled banter in favor of far more interesting subjects.

Namely the extremely attractive bartender and the young lady at table twelve.

Bonjouuur table twelve.

"Do you honestly-?"

"—telling you! It'll be-!"

"—wrong with you, git! Who-– panties?"

"Then— naked!"

Well. That was one way to get France's attention.

"What was that I hear about panties and getting naked, messieurs?"

America drunkenly beamed, slapping the table a bit too hard and spilling England's drink into his lap, causing the older nation to curse loudly. "It's gonna be awesome! You in?"

"Oh, Brilliant," England grumbled, trying to clean himself up while seeing double of his own lap. "Invite the bloody frog and make my night even worse, why don't you."

America blinked. "But I just did..."

"Oh for the love of—just forget it."

France smirked and waved him off. "You do not have to come, Angleterre. Young Amérique and I will just have naked time without you."

"Not on your life," England seethed.

"Then let's go!" America exclaimed, grasping England and France's hands and running out the door into the cool night air.

The trio had walked for what felt like hours, and France was becoming frustrated at the apparent lack of a panty-clad England or naked America.

Talk about false advertisement.

"We just had to walk all the bloody way to Russia's house, didn't we?" England griped as the trio trudged along. "One would think with all of that state-of-the-art technology you're always blabbering on about, we would, oh, I don't know, use it? But of course not, that would make too much bloody sense. Wanker."

France pursed his lips, taking in this new information. So they were including Russia in this little adventure, were they?

Kinky.

"Well sorry Ukraine is spending the night at her brother's." America snapped, rolling his eyes. "When we get there, you can give her a stern talking to. Now shut up, we're here."

Oh, so Ukraine was also joining in on this little escapade? France smiled wistfully. He liked this plan more and more every second. At least he figured he would, if he actually knew what was going on.

The group snuck around to the back gate, England using his delinquent pirate skills to pick the lock, and snuck up to the sliding glass door. With a shushing motion at his lips, America slid the slightly squeaky door open and tiptoed inside.

"Someone turn on a fucking light, it's dark as a unicorn's ass in here."

"You would know that."

"Sod off!"

Leaving the lovers to their spat, France felt his hands along the wall, searching for a switch before locating one and flipping it up. "Voilà!"

"Ah, look who we have here, сестра! You have come for some fun, da?"

The trio squinted into the newly lit kitchen, immediately freezing in their place as their eyes adjusted, reveling the sight that lay before them. Russia and Ukraine stood on top of the kitchen table, clothed head to toe in shiny black leather, Russia's trusty pipe resting casually in his hand, while Ukraine held an intimidating looking whip, looking as though she was nearly on the brink of tears.

Russia smiled at them wickedly. "Who is wanting to be first? England perhaps?"

England's eyes widened as he was forcefully pushed forward by Belarus, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, also wearing leather. With a gulp, he nervously stepped towards the table as Russia bent down to look him straight in the eye.

The large nation traced a lone finger down the curve of England's nose. "I will make this as painless as possible." He smirked, slipping off England's tie and-

"That is it, you fucking bastard! C'mere!"

"But Angleterre! I was simply-"

"You were simply being a bloody pervert! Now hold still so I can castrate you!"

America, Prussia, and the president all sighed as England, once again, starting beating the shit out of France. Prussia threw his hands behind his head, leaning causally against the cold, brick wall.

"And here I thought I had an eventful night. You guys win, for sure."

America crossed his arms; absentmindedly watching as England repeatedly slammed France's face into the bars on the far wall. "Yeah, that's totally not what happened."

The president released a long, mournful sigh for his ruined night of peaceful slumber and rubbed his temples. "All I wanted to know what how you all ended up here. That's all. Can't one of you please, please just tell me what happened so I can go home?"

"Um, I can…"

The small, barely audible voice somehow managed to capture the attention of the rest of the room, successfully breaking up England and France's fight and causing the Europeans to join the others in looking around in confusion.

All at once, everyone's gaze landed on a timid figure sitting in the corner of the cell. They gasped.

"Canada?"

This is the chapter that almost never was. See, when I originally planed out this story, the France chapter was originally going to be a warning that due to sexual content, the chapter couldn't be posted. But then people actually READ this story, sooo I felt bad doing that and came up with a chapter. XD Hope you still enjoyed it!

On another note, I start my final year of college tomorrow. Damn, I'm old. XD in 9ish months I'll be a free woman!

OH YES! There's a new poll up on my profile! It'll decide what story I write next, so go vote! And don't forget about my forum, guys! I love to make friends! :)