Disclaimer: I neither own nor have permission to use "Hetalia: Axis Powers" or "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", I do so for entertainment purposes without intent to profit and beg the lawyers not to make an example of me.
Hey, at least I didn't try to make any claims about Anarcho-Syndicalism.
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"The Nations of Hetalia and The Holy Grail"
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'
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Gibraltar looked at the Black Knight, then over to Arthur, back to the Black Knight, down to the bridge the Knight was standing on, up and down the length of the 'river' that the Knight was guarding, and finally back to Arthur before speaking, "Can't we jump the stream?"
If one could see his eyes, they might assume that the Black Knight was glaring at those words, "None shall pass."
Arthur rolled his eyes, "Be not a fool, Gibraltar! See ye not that there be but one way to cross such a mighty river and that way be the bridge this wolfshead that dares to claim himself a knight blockades?"
"You shall not pass," the Black Knight intoned.
"Oh, great," Gibraltar moaned, "There goes fifty quid to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien... and it's not a 'mighty river', it's a little stream, barely even a trickle, but no... always has to make a big production out of everything... and they wonder where Alfred picked up the habit from..."
"Be quiet!"
"Puerto Rico tried to warn me, 'don't play a sidekick', he said, he's been doing it with America for a while now, he knows what he's talking about, but did I listen? No..."
"I said, 'be quiet'!"
"Days like this make me want to have words with Spain for losing me to England in the first place..."
"Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!"
"Oh, you order me, eh? Why don't I go on strike and we'll see what happens to your interests in the Med', how's that for an order, then?"
"Oh, shut up!" Arthur finally huffed, drawing his sword, storming over to the unmoving Black Knight and with three quick strokes severing the knight's limbs from his body so that he could continue on his way, stomping as he marched out of sight.
Gibraltar, rolling his eyes, followed at a more sedate pace, pausing to look at the Black Knight and, shrugging with one shoulder, shake his head.
A few minutes after Gibraltar had left the clearing, the Black Knight looked around, "Are they gone? Good."
Suddenly, limbs came flying from where they had fallen to the ground and reattached themselves to the Knight's torso until he could stand up and remove his helmet to reveal his true identity.
"What?" John Revelin Sutherland, the Nation of the Confederate States of America asked, looking at the camera, "You really thought the author was going to leave me out? As the saying goes, 'The South will rise again'..."
"After all," he chuckled, "'Tis but a flesh wound'."
Unconsciously, John traced his armor over the site of the long scar that marked the damage done to body and soul by The March.
"Just a flesh wound," he repeated.
