Author's note: Sorry. I know, I said I was going to do one with America in the last chapter, but I can't think of anything for him. At least thought of this and a few others as well.

I hope you them.

Germany found the perfect job. The job that was the best suited for him and no, it didn't involve being in the military. It was surprisingly, baking at a bakery. He never told anyone about this and he didn't want them to find about it. Everyone would laugh at him and/or annoy him to no-end, if he did.

He loved to bake. The sweet smells, people doing what they are told, everything was cleaned up after use and placed in the correct places, just about everything there was soothing. When his bosses offer him the job, thinking it would take some stress off of the strict German, he took it, though masked his eagerness with disinterest.

Life looked bright for Germany that as is before he got in order French croissants and send them out. Just as he was about to he saw, someone he knew. He retreat back into the kitchen. One of the nation were there and no surprise that it was France. That would explained the croissants. The question now how he was going to conceal his identity from the French nation. He thought for a bit until an idea popped in his brain.

He later came out with a mustache, a mustache that kept after another failed attempt at taking him down by Romano. The German nation walked and spoke up in a disguised voice. "Uh, here's order, sir."

"Oh, Merci, bon homme. I 'am sorry, this establishment as terrible customer service. The cashier kept confusing my order for some else's."

"Yeah. I'll be sure to tell my bosses about that. Have a great day." Germany muttered ignoring the rage and the slight panic that started to build inside of him.

"Wait? Ave I seen you before?"

"Uh, no... I just started here and-"

"Oh, my bad, I tought you where someone else. Merci. Well, I 'am off. Au revoir. The French man said before walked out.

"Grrrr!" Fortunate for him his other orders were easier, especially Liechtenstein and Switzerland's. The Swizz man wanted them to get out as soon possible and while the little did questioned the German man a bit, but press any farther and had to with her brother. Germany was never glad for Switzerland's anti-social personality before.

Things went down for him when he brought an order that belong to America. He hopped the American would annoyed the hell out him, though knowing how that nation acts, that was just wishful thinking; but just as he walked up to the American, he saw that America looked a bit off.

"Uh, excuse me did you order a dozen maple syrup flavored doughnuts?"

"Uh, oh? Thanks." The American said as he was about to take his order only stooping for a second before he asked. "Uh, Germany?" The voice was soft-toned, not the voice that from the loudmouth American nation.

"Uh, America?"

"No, you got the wrong guy. I 'am Canada."

"Oh, uh? Right. Sorry about that."

"It's okay, I get that a lot."

"Right, you won't tell anyone about this, would you?"

"Don't worry, I won't. Well I got to go. See you later. Thanks, again." As the nation, Germany a smile on his face. Whoever was this Canadia nation is, he was very different from America in term of personality. The German soon went back to his job, hoping the next orders, would good a this one's was.