A/N: Ta-da! Once more, there will be notes at the bottom, but this time it will also have to do with parts of the chapter that aren't slang, so . . . ^J^
But I'm pretty hyped for you guys to see this chapter, which comes in multiple parts (*cough*two*cough*). Stay awes—
Germany: "Don't say it! Do you have any idea how much it cost to replace the windows the last time he swung in?"
Me: "Like . . . on a rope?"
Germany: "Ja. It was difficult getting the glass out of the carpet, too . . ."
. . . Okay then. Stay fabulous!
Poland: *pops in* "Like, totally!"
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers.
America's Car: Part 1
"Okay dudes, so now that we're all settled in, I wrote down an awesome list of things to do while we're in NYC. Check it out!" America announced, unfolding the piece of paper he was clutching and reading out loud: "'Note to self—write down awesome list of things to do in NYC.' Huh."
The other nations stiffened, glancing warily at the windows in case a certain awesome nation planned to make an entrance. Meanwhile, at Carnegie Hall . . .
"Prussia? Why are you suddenly awake?" Austria asked when his companion bolted upright in his chair—Prussia had been sleeping throughout most of the previous hour when he discovered the lack of broom music, to his chagrin.
Prussia grinned. "I simply heard the call of awesomeness."
"Does it sound like classical music?" wondered Austria, feeling a dash of hope . . .
"Nein! Not even close, kesesese!" he cackled, and the aforementioned dash was dashed. Then his eyes widened in panic. "Wait, who let you bring th—"
He was cut off by a frying pan colliding with his face. The pianist performing on the stage didn't even blink at the sudden noise, and if the audience did, they decided to ignore it. Austria glanced at a satisfied-looking Hungary. "I thought you said there were too many witnesses."
"It's a habit. Now, I'm going to leave before they haul me out . . ."
Both statements were only partially true, but thankfully, Austria didn't notice.
Back at the hotel, America stuffed the paper back into his pocket. "Well, that's no problem! We can just split up and cover more ground that way, then."
"That idea's great!" Poland chirped, grabbing Lithuania's arm and running out the door. "Come on, Liet, we have to go on another shopping spree, like, now!"
"What? I don't think that's right!" China exclaimed, then immediately remembered what happened the last time he said that and decided, "I think I'll just stay here, aru."
"I know you have your doubts, but whatevs bros, we can do this! USDA!" America fist-pumped. Before anyone else could object, he continued, "Anyway, I have this woodie that I'm super hyped about showing you guys. You can ride it if you want, as long as I'm the one behind the wheel because I'm the Hero!"
The nations stood in shocked silence—which was becoming a habit, by the way; no lie this time—as America continued rambling about the woodie he couldn't wait for them to see. Well, Canada was more embarrassed on his brother's behalf than shocked, Japan was keeping quiet more out of courtesy than secondhand embarrassment, and France was more attentive than usual in a totally creepy manner, so yeah . . . they were more or less "shocked" but unvaryingly "silent".
When a minute passed and no one responded, America finally paused his monologue and asked, "Dudes, you listening?"
France quickly wiped off his nosebleed on someone else's sleeve—his own were too glamorous to ruin, after all—and said, "Of course, Amerique, though I must know if I am correct in assuming that it is not rollercoasters that you speak of this time?"
"Ha! As if I'd be able to fit a rollercoaster in this part of the city," the younger nation chuckled, pulling his glasses forward a bit so that he could dab at his eyes. "Naw. Like I said, this is a good, old-fashioned woodie—you don't see so many around anymore, but I found one at an auction and now it looks good as new! It's a bit slower than other cars, but Japan helped me tweak it so it's a hybrid. So, you ready to take a cruise in it or what?"
". . . Oh. It's a car," France pouted, shuffling away dejectedly to go sulk in a corner.
Britain, who appeared more relieved than frustrated at this point—hey, at least this time the conversation didn't escalate as much as the others—stepped forward and said, "A vintage car, you say? Well, I suppose I could go for a ride . . ."
"I'd like to come as well, America-san," Japan agreed, "I have not seen the car in a while."
Eventually, France returned from the corner of the room and decided that he wanted to accompany them, too, though mostly because he had realized that it would be yet another opportunity to annoy Britain. Seeing this, Monaco whispered something to China and Australia, and after a confidential conversation, Monaco and Australia decided that they wanted to go as well. China still insisted on staying behind.
Italy decided he wanted to go as well because Japan was going; Germany decided to attend in order to make sure Italy didn't wind up in trouble; Romano decided to make sure the potato bastard stayed at least an arm's length away from his brother, so he agreed to come too; Spain decided to follow Romano because, well, they're Spain and Romano.
"See, Japan? I told you getting one that seats eleven was a good idea!" America beamed proudly. "We even have one extra."
"Hai, but isn't it usually hard to find a good parking space because of the length of the car?"
"Yeah, I hear you, bro. But we'll worry about that later, okay?" he laughed as he ran out the door. "Now, let's get moving, guys!"
"Wow, this car is really nice, isn't it, Romano?" Spain sighed dreamily.
Romano harrumphed. Clambering inside the vehicle, his brother nodded enthusiastically, "Ve, I want to sit next to Germany!"
"What? No, no," he shook his head, plopping himself down in the middle seat between Germany and Italy, "There's no way I'm letting you sit next to the potato bastard, got it?"
Monaco turned to Australia, "As you may have noticed, we are sitting in a row with Spain. So, you and China have already owe me quite a sum of money, eh?"
Australia facepalmed, already regretting having taken the series of bets regarding their ride in America's car. "Oi, mate, how do you do that?"
Monaco gave a small smile. "I have experience."
"Why is it that I'm the one left with the frog?" Britain groaned from the back seat.
"Ohonhonhon, it's because you must've won the lottery, Angleterre!" France smirked—for the record, though, it was because Britain was the least likely to be groped by France, not that any of the other nations in the car would admit it aloud. "Not bad for the black sheep of Europe."
Britain cast him a dark look. "What did you just call me?"
"Belt up, Britain!" America called from the front seat, "We're about to move!"
"You git! Don't you know it's dangerous to move the car when one of your passengers are unbuckled?" Britain snapped, swiftly buckling his seatbelt, "And since when did you have the right to tell me what to do?"
"If you're so mad about it, dude, why'd you agree to come?" America asked, frowning as he left the parking spot. "I'm the Hero, so I'm not going to let any of you get hurt on my watch, whether you like it or not!"
"Belting up has nothing to do with safety on the road!" Britain shouted, causing the other nations—minus America, who was used to loud volumes—to wince at the noise.
"Well, that's only if you neglect the fact that belting up has everything to do with staying safe!" America replied.
"I prefer it when the belts are completely off . . . and the pants, too . . ." said France wistfully.
"Shut it, France!" exclaimed America, while Britain fumed, "Belt up, frog!"
"He is buckled!" America said. "Plus, how come you can say it to France in an argument but I can't tell you to 'belt up' when it's for your own good?"
"Calm down, there is no need to fight," Japan tried to soothe them to no avail.
"'For my own good', you say?" Britain spat, disregarding Japan's comment. Sighing softly, Japan turned on his phone and began to scroll through his text messages. "I don't see how shutting my bloody mouth is going to do me any good out here on the road, you twat!"
"That's because I'm not telling you to shut up, I'm trying to make sure you keep your seatbelt buckled so you don't go flying out the window!"
Britain was silent for a moment before managing to ask, "How is it that since arriving at the hotel, we have already had two arguments because of how you've botched up my language?"
Nudging Australia again, Monaco reminded him quietly, "France and Britain launched into an argument and were interrupted by America, who immediately wound up in an argument with Britain due to differences in slang. Japan tried and failed to end it, though the argument eventually ceased when Britain realized his error. I believe that's another two bets you and China have lost."
"It seems like your predictions are holding up after all," Australia noted. "Nice job, mate."
"Merci beaucoup, Australia."
He grinned in response, but when he turned to stroke his koala, Australia couldn't help but think that if Monaco kept winning their bets at this pace, it was going to be a very long ride.
Notes on this Chapter:
"USDA": May be referring to the hip-hop group also known as the "United Streets Dopeboyz of America", the US Department of Agriculture, which also uses it as an acronym, or perhaps the "United States Dumbledore Army" (which is one of the definitions listed in Urban Dictionary). Either way, it's an acronym.
Britain: "Wait at tick, what's this about a Dumbledore Army at your place?"
America: "Jealous?"
"Woodie": See notes at the bottom of "America's Fries" (Chapter 2). Referring to the car, "The appearance was largely an American car feature, as European and Asian car manufacturers rarely offered it" according to the Wikipedia article "Woodie (car body style)".
"Belt up": May be used to tell someone to buckle up their seatbelt or to "shut up", though the latter may be more often used in Britain and may be considered rude . . .
Carnegie Hall is a prestigious concert venue in New York City. However, Prussia was let down by the lack of broom music, so . . .
There's this chart of the ten countries with the highest gambling losses of 2013. The USA came in first, losing about $119 billion, which is more than triple any of the other countries' losses except for China's, who came in second with losses worth about $76 billion, but America can't exactly be betting against Monaco if he's one of the things they're betting on; same goes with Japan and Britain, who came in third and fifth place respectively. Italy came in fourth, but he's there for the ride, so I'm not sure if he'd be in the right mood for gambling. Australia came in sixth, so yeah, they're going to have a little fun, though I bet you can guess how this is going to turn out for them, considering who they're up against.
