"He lives…" Lovino stated blankly, amber eyes agape in utter shock as they gawked up at what was presumably Feliciano's estate. "…On a plate?" Indeed, as he averted his gaze downward, the quaint little house, strewn with leafy vines intertwining on their way along the edge of the abode, was sitting upon an excessively large porcelain plate. The outer edge of the platter nearest the pathway on which Lovino stood beheld a slight chip, an intentional flaw created for use as a vessel for the mailbox. Dangling limply down from the uppermost window swung a long rope of entangled spaghetti noodles, assumedly used for an alternative exit route… and, although it looked exceptionally absurd, t'was nothing compared to the other bizarre goings-on of the past twenty-four hours.

A deep sigh emitted from his parted lips, eyelids shutting softly in an exasperated inner lack of motivation. Cracking his left knuckles gently against his right palm, Lovino proceeded forward, strolling up the pathway to the front door, black shoes clacking against the pavement as he did so. Inhaling sharply, the Italian hesitantly willed his hand forward, grasped the brass doorknob- engraved into which was a tomato- and hastily yanked the door, throwing it open. Only then did he realize that said door had been… well, pulled with more willpower than intended, and had broken off of its hinges and into the clutches of the cross-dressing man, admittedly lighter than he had previously thought. Uttering a low groan, Lovino leaned the door gently against the wall beside the doorframe and advanced into the house, which he found to be a bit too small for his liking; he stood a mere five-foot-seven, and yet his scalp was meager inches from the ceiling above. The walls were entirely covered by a tacky mint-green wallpaper of sorts, stained here and there with what Lovino hoped was gelato. The entirety of his surroundings was very bunny-esque- particularly the reeking smell, a mingling of rabbit fur and pasta sauce that should never have happened.

What am I looking for again? he wondered, gazing rather imperturbably around the house for any inkling of his arriving purpose. Oh, yeah, the gloves, and that damned fan of his… what self-respecting Italian carries around a fan? Must be that Japanese bastard's doing… Or the doing of the dodo, whichever fits… He clambered up the creaking wooden stairs adjacent from the front door and hurried into the room parallel to the steps, ducking slightly into the bedroom and towards the dresser. Lovino rummaged impatiently through the drawers for the items, to no avail. He stumbled backwards from the dresser, backing clumsily into a vanity sitting beside the doorframe. Amber eyes narrowed at the sight of a pair of lanky white gloves and a fan of gold, sitting so innocently atop the vanity, though they surely mocked him and all his Italian dress-wearing antics from within. From gritted teeth passed a jumbled mutter of curses as he snatched said objects from the dressing table and turned to leave, though the familiarity of a certain bottle sitting just ahead of the looking glass, assumedly threatening him, daring him to urge forward and slug down its contents.

The Italian thoroughly inspected the bottle, scrutinizing its outer labels for any more of those implicative signs he had seen back at the beginning of his little escapade. "Hrm… I really shouldn't drink this. With the way Feli is, that damned Ludwig probably gave it to him, and if it's German, I really can't trust it…" All the same, as he shifted the bottle around and its pearly liquid contents swashed along the inside, his stomach gave a prompt complaint of desire and his tongue weighed down with thirst. Perhaps a little sip wouldn't cause too much of a ruckus…

Sighing once more, he tipped the bottle back into his mouth and slurped down one measly sip, which soon became two, three, and eventually half of the entirety. He placed the half-empty bottle back atop the vanity and cleared his throat, the tip of his tongue flicking out to recover a single drip of the liquid that still lingered on his bottom lip. He grinned victoriously, as it seemed the drink would not alter him in any way or form. Smoothing out the creases in his periwinkle dress, Lovino ensued, strolling leisurely out the bedroom door and into the hallway.

"Ow!" The Italian yelped sharply as his head punctually met the ceiling, his shoulders soon hunching over as his form became much too large for its residency. Within mere seconds' time, Lovino Why-Must-These-Damn-Things-Always-Happen-To-Me Vargas was huddled up in a tight ball inside the compact estate, arm sticking profoundly out the window and foot threatening to protrude from the chimney. At long last, his rapid growth ceased, though too little too late, as the whole of his frame was pressed uncomfortably against the walls of his rabbit-brother's dwelling.

Ugh! Why does this keep happening? What will it take to give me some damned peace, for once! I should be sitting at home right now, bored out of my mind… This is all that French bastard's fault! Oh, I swear, if I ever get out of this forsaken world, I-

"Lovino~!" called out an obnoxious voice, one which gave the cross-dresser an appropriate reason to shout aloud in distress, for hopping up the path in a flustered manner was Feliciano the rabbit, meandering here and there in frantic search of his brother. "Uwah! I need to find my gloves soon!" And the bunny's eyes, glazed over with frenzied moisture, gawked up at the arm jutting out from his window and liberated a proper shriek. "V-V-Ve~! Lovino, you're-!"

"Yeah, I'm stuck in your damned house!" Lovino shouted back, patience wearing dangerously thin. "Why would you live in such a small house in the first place? This is ridiculous! And it's so messy- that's completely unlike you!"

Feliciano grinned, a stupid smile gracing his lips. "Ah, well, I couldn't pay the rent back at the tree house, and had to live here. It's a mess because Feliks took the week off for maternity leave."

"Feliks?"

"My maid!" he replied cheerily. "Wait, how could he have been on maternity leave…? Maybe that's why he hasn't come back in a few months… Anyway, we need to get you out, Lovino!"

No kidding… "And how are we supposed to do that?"

The younger Italian screwed up his face in deep thought (or, at least, however deeply he could think) and remained like that for a good five minutes. Lovino groaned once more, gnashing his teeth together in frustration as his leg began to fall asleep in a numbing tingle. Feliciano's voice spoke out once more, though it was clearly directed at another being. "Ve, is that you, Vash? Think you can help m-"

"A-Aah! Get away from my house- don't make me shoot!" threatened a new voice, one which Lovino had a bit of trouble placing a face to. In the end, his mind rejected all deep thinking and compelled him to simply listen in on the conversation as a latter decision.

"But we're neighbors! And Lovino's stuck in my house! See for yourself!"

"Hmph. So it would seem."

"Can't you get him out, Vash? Please~?"

Vash remained silent for quite some time, leading Lovino into a state of slight unease. Finally, after about two minutes had passed- though, in all actuality, the man-in-dress knew not how long he had been waiting, as his perception of time had all but ceased to exist since his arrival to this land- the Swiss man spoke, very even-leveled in pitch. "I can, I suppose, but it'll take a much bigger weapon."

"N-No!" Lovino shrieked, somewhat femininely, at the horrendous thought of what this sadistic stranger was implying. "I'm fine! P-P-Perfectly f-fine! Eh heh heh! Just- Just leave me here to-" A hard metal object nudged against his fingers, and a powdery substance trickled over his arm flesh. "No! Damn it, damn it damn it all! Stop, you psychotic bastard! I-"

"Oh, hold still and quit whining like a little child!" Vash huffed, and continued to spread the gunpowder along the oversized arm, which was beginning to tickle from the steady touch of the dusty substance. "I'm not going to shoot you out."

Lovino sighed with relief, feeling a heavy burden lift itself from his palpitating heart. "Oh, thank the gods…"

Vash shook the last of the powder onto the arm and took a swift step backwards, admiring his handiwork from afar. "I'm going to burn the house to the ground."

This casual statement received a responsive shriek from both parties, though Feliciano's was more a yelp of surprise. "Ve~? Burn it to the ground? But I haven't even made my bed yet…"

"Oh, that can wait. If you're going to keep pestering me, the least you can do is help me throw the explosives into the chimney."

Lovino could feel tears of worry prick his eyelids, though he quickly swallowed and shook them away, feeling his heart begin its hysterical throbbing once more. Indeed, as he averted his gaze to the ceiling above, a series of pebble-like objects began raining down from the heaven, presumably by Vash and Feliciano's doing, and gulped loudly as he anticipated the worst. He stole one last glance at the explosives and began to whisper his goodbyes…

… Only for the explosive pebbles to gather at one point in the middle and clump together, forming a single pastry, nearly identical to the one he had seen upon entering through the rabbit hole. His first instinct was to swallow it whole with no questions asked; however, a certain phrase kept playing back in his head, spoken by the Swiss being.

These were explosives. Were they really safe to devour? Of course, all the while, Lovino had been trying desperately to convince himself that the drink had been entirely harmless, and this was also hard to admit, so he shrugged off all uncertainties and stuffed his mouth with the little pastries. Certainly, they tasted particularly divine, what with their sweetly-iced frosting laces and little pompoms of some creamy substance, yet as it traveled down his throat and into his stomach, it burned with the bittersweet passion of a nuclear bomb. Thankfully, however, though this burning sensation was incredibly agonizing for a split-second, the feeling dissipated almost instantaneously and he began to shrink down once more, spluttering out virtually ever swear he could think of off the top of his head as he proceeded out the door and into the sights of Feliciano the rabbit and Vash the lizard-tailed/spiked. Said lizard was accompanied by a single young lady, with large guinea pig ears and a puffy tail, clad in a long, olden-style magenta dress with her hair styled similarly to the lizard's.

"There he is!" the guinea pig said softly, hand placed upon Vash's shoulder, the owner of which withdrawing a shotgun from behind him and aiming directly for the runaway cross-dresser. Lovino cried out in alarm and staggered forward, dashing full-throttle into the woods in fear for his life's wellbeing. Not that his life was all that well off as it was…

He continued to run, soon coming to a safe haven behind a few tall blades of grass, as he was still an incredibly meager size. "That was close… What the hell is wrong with all of the people around here, anyway?" he muttered to himself, watching as Feliciano sped by, fretting all the while, as Vash advanced after him, shooting a bullet just past the bunny's left ear and shouting foreign things at him before the two disappeared into the forest beyond. "Hmph. Dumbasses. Now what am I to do? I need to get back to my normal size, then I should probably try and find a change of clothes that will actually fit me. This dress is such a nuisance! Hrm… there's a garden not too far from here, I think. Maybe someone there can help me." He took a single step forward, though soon felt his confidence plummet as he realized one mildly-important fact; he hadn't the slightest clue how to go about his plan. "Great!" he shouted sarcastically, huffing in irritation as he sat upon a fruit of some sort.

And then he heard it. That obnoxious, much-too-familiar voice that often plagued his childhood memories, as well as the reason he had attained a rather nasty bed-wetting problem in his youth; the accursed voice of that jackass, as well as the accompanied sounds of a slight barking.

"Lovi~! Nice dress!" called the Spanish bastard, striding up to the Italian in long bounds. Lovino's face reddened brighter than ever before at the thought of his former guardian seeing him in a dress, much like he had worn as a child. How utterly humiliating…

And then he rescanned his eyes over Antonio, only to find that the Spaniard had grown a pair of mocha-brown, half-flopped dog ears and a long, wagging tail that protruded from his rear.

Oh, he would never be able to let Antonio live this down…

A/N: Had to stick some Spamano in there, though. I honestly think that's becoming my new OTP. I feel like such a creep… I'm a Spamano fan, a USUK fan, and a bit of a Franada fan… Eh heh heh.

By the way, I am taking oneshot requests, as I have nothing better to do. Anyone who wants one, just step right up and tell me via review, email, or message. Be sure to include the basics (rating, characters, genre), as well as any plotline or ideas that you want me to incorporate.

R&R!eHe