The One With… Soccer
France's sobs could be heard from all corners of the bar. The wine bottle that he had started less than a half hour ago was empty and being waved at the crowd around him. The bar in which the nations had gathered in was very evenly split in half. On one side was France and those supporting him, each bitterly downing the best beer in Germany. On the other, cheering and celebrating loud enough to shake the building was Italy and his completely blasted group of supporters. France glared angrily as the other half of the room was attempting to sing the Italian national anthem. All but Italy were failing miserably.
"That was! Th-That was SOOO cool! That was so COOL the way you totally beat Frog-face! OH my god I was laughing soooo hard! Oh man!" America slumped against Italy, face red and slap happy.
Germany was sitting at the center of the group, happily playing the role of host, despite he too having lost. "Bartender! Another bier all around! To ITALIEN!" He shouted, spilling some beer as he toasted the air. A chorus of cheers followed.
"Course Italia would WIN!" Lovino shoved through to the center, smug grin on his face. "Who the fuck else would be able to wipe the floor with the whole world!" He was screaming at the crowd, shaking the gold cup in his younger brother's hand. After a few moments Spain came through the crowd, gently usurping the loud Italian away from the group, whispering something to keep him from protesting almost instantly.
"So…Feli…."America cooed, slinking over towards the remaining Italian. "How do you plan on celebrating this amazing win, besides hanging around this 'ol bar?" From his spot at the bar, Germany watched as he felt his gaze narrow.
Italy tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know…Germany said if he made it to the final two that he'd get to tie me up to his bed for the weekend. But, I guess since it was me who won, then it's the opposite" he replied nonchalantly. "Right, Germany?"
The group would have been more inclined to laugh at the bright red color that had taken over Germany's face suddenly, had it not been the buldge evident in all their pants.
"Either that, or a GIANT bowl of pasta. Yea… that's what I'll do-" He was suddenly cut off as Germany swept him from the room.
"NO PASTA!"
Ok, so I wasn't too happy with how this one turned out. I'm having writers block brought on by the stress of dead/finals week. . R/R and hope you liked it. And, in case you missed it, this chapter was refering to the 2006 FIFA Soccer World Cup held in Germany.