The following is a typed transcript from 'Arthur Kirkland's' Dictaphone which was entitled 'The Aftermath'. It appeared to be dated 24th April 2011, directly after the events of what he called St George's Day or Arthur's 'birthday'. There were several reports in the local newspaper regarding arrests in the vicinity of Arthur Kirkland's address, a public order disturbance and a report of indecent exposure was also recorded at the address where the Metropolitan Police were called as well as an ambulance. As before, the author would like to point out that any prejudices real or imaginary are entirely Arthur's own. All dialogue is transcribed as recorded word for word. Words in italics are those uttered by people unknown to the author.

Arthur Kirkland's Diary – Transcript 6 – The Aftermath (24th April, 2011)

Diane, I'm speaking to you from a Travelodge inn just down the road from my house. Dear Lord, never again. Next time it's my birthday I'm off out of the country. Honestly. I'm going to ... I don't know I'll visit Seychelles. Last year was bad enough, I never got those stains out of my bathroom floor and France broke my bed with some energetic sex with some unidentified Nation – whoever that was I hope I never find out. But at least the Police didn't get involved.

Okay, I'll try and recount what happened last night from when I last switched you off – I'd been in the Kings Arms with Lithuania and Poland. Lithy's okay, nice chap, probably the only sane Nation – apart from me of course – that I know. Amazing really that he kept his sanity after living with Russia all those years. I mean we all know Russia's as mad as a fish. Poland is, well, Poland. Always wears a skirt, but actually he looks damned good in one. Oh dear, moving on. Where was I, oh yes, we'd opened that box from Belarus which actually didn't contain a scorpion or someone's head, but was actually a very nice birthday cake – she'd even iced in red icing (I hope to God it's not blood) Happy Birthday Arthur. And then all hell broke loose across at my house. The music had got louder and louder – I have no idea where the Sex Pistols records came from and one of my neighbours who is used to me being extremely quiet called the Police. I don't blame them really. France apparently had removed all his clothes (what a surprise or quelle surprise as the Frog would say) and was running around my garden. Honestly he can't keep his clothes on if his life depended on it. If that wasn't bad enough, some stripper turned up, but America, Denmark and Prussia – who all call themselves something ridiculous like the Awesome Trio decided that this person was the wrong gender – I'm assuming the stripper was male, but who knows? And they were very rude and laughed at the said poor, unfortunate person's appendage, this person got irate and yelled at them. Prussia apparently took out his appendage and waved it around – America called him (Prussia that is, not the stripper) Mr 5 millimetres – I have no idea why, and then there was a huge fight. The stripper fled (I really hope it wasn't a fellow Nation) and the Police arrived.

All this is in the Police report. France apparently was making lewd gestures at my neighbour's wife through the kitchen window while she was washing up. Having a naked Frenchman appearing at your kitchen window waving his private parts around is most off-putting when you're trying to do housework. I know – I speak from experience. Poor woman apparently dropped her best china.

Prussia and America – both calling themselves 'Mr Awesome' to the unimpressed local Police Sergeant, had to be pulled off one another. In the police report it said that the white-haired German was attempting to shove the American into the wheelie bin, shouting "I'm more awesome than you, bitch" whilst America said "You're not even a Nation, you have to live with your brother. How is that awesome?"

The report then went on to say that a tall blond spiky-haired gentleman with an unknown foreign accent had got hold of a large axe (why oh why did I keep an axe with my gardening tools in the shed and why oh why did I not lock them up?) and was swinging it around in a haphazard manner. British Police are the best in the world in my opinion and they managed to disarm him with relatively few injuries. In the report it said that the 'blond gentleman was threatening to pillage and rape anyone who came near him'. Dear Diane, there is no way on this earth that Denmark can ever be called a gentleman, only by someone on hard-core drugs. Somehow or other he landed in my garden pond. That's my goldfish gone I bet. And the Police managed to take the axe off him.

The Ambulance was called when Francis streaked down the gardens of my neighbours – attempting to escape the Police – and a poor little 80 year old lady saw the naked idiot and had a stroke. I mean she had a medical stroke – not an actual stroke – I don't mean she actually... oh you know what I mean. Oh God my brain's addled.

Anyway, I've got to go and bail them out of the police holding cell soon. No doubt because they're Nations they have diplomatic immunity. I should really call their embassies. And Ludwig – he can deal with his idiot brother. The Danish and French Embassies are used to this. Pierre, who is quite a nice man – for a Frenchy – deals with Francis' misdemeanours when he's in Britain. And there's always loads of them. Poor chap. He's only about 30, but he looks 60 and has developed a tic and a stammer. I should put his number on speed-dial.

Right I'm going to have a cup of tea and then I'm going to inspect the damage at my house. Pray for me, Diane.

(Dictaphone is switched off)

Diane, I'm home and ... oh dear Lord. How has that happened? That chair that Sweden built for me is in bits. And what's this? A blow-up doll? In my apron? And... and... that's just not right – it's wearing my union jack boxers. What is wrong with these people? Bottles everywhere. Please dear God, let there not be some passed-out random Nation in one of my wardrobes or in my bath, like last time. I will never ever get over opening my wardrobe door and Greece falling out – still asleep.

(doorbell rings)

I don't want to answer that.

Hello, who is it?

Hola! It is me! Your birthday present is here, England!

Oh hello Antonio, I suppose you'd better come in.

Si, so you are having a good birthday?

It was yesterday. Are you trying to be bloody funny?

No, Inglaterra. I forgot. Here, I buy you a present. It is good, no?

What is it? Oh thanks. A packet of cigarettes. Actually I might need those. So yes, thanks. Right goodbye.

So, where is everyone?

Look Spain, I'm a bit busy.

Yassou! England! It is birthday, ochi?

Hello Greece, yes it was my birthday.

Meow.

Oh you brought a cat.

It is a little kitten for you, Mr England. But you do not have to have it. I can take it home. Little kitty...

I see, well...

Mr England's birthday was yesterday, Herakles.

Seriously?

Si.

Seriously?

Si, seriously.

Oooh, perhaps I take Mr Kitty and he come back with me. I bring him next year.

Do you know Inglaterra that there are lots of bottles in your garden?

Yes I bloody do.

And a doll sat at your kitchen table... I did not know that you liked such things Inglaterra?

I bloody don't. I didn't put that there.

It has a name – Betty?

What the bloody hell?

That is what it says on its chest – in lipstick.

Are they your boxers, Inglaterra?

Yes... oh just shut up both of you.

Do you have any milk for little kitty?

Sod off. Oh okay.

Right, chappies just get yourselves a cup of tea. You can tidy up as well if you want. I need to make some phone calls.

Si, okay. Greece you want cup of tea?

Yes, okay...

The speed those two go at Diane, they could be there all day just making a cup of tea. Where's my phone. Oh dear Lord, who drew that on my picture of Winston? Oh that is not right. I hate them. And what is that on my mantelpiece? W...W...What on earth. I didn't know they did them in that size! I bet they got that in Soho. The dirty perverts. They think they're so funny. What's written on the side? A present from Prussia. I 'm not going to bail them out. They can sod off. I'm throwing this in the bin...

Inglaterra, where are you going with that? You have changed from your pirate years. I would not have thought it of you to keep such things in your house. You always said you were a gentleman.

Just sod off okay, it's not mine.

Of course not...

I hate all of you.

(doorbell rings)

Who the sodding hell. Just bugger off whoever you are. Damn and blast it all.

(mutters to himself) If I hide this behind my back I'll tell whoever it is to bugger off.

Bonjour Arthur! I know I'm late... Oh Arthur...

Oh hello, Belgium, er Louise, er... Oh I say!

Hmm, Arthur. Wait a minute what on earth are you holding?

I'm sorry, those idiots... they left this in my house and I'm trying to get rid of it.

Francis?

How did you guess? You're the first person I've seen who I've wanted to see.

Can you stop waving that thing around, Arthur? It's very off-putting.

They wrecked my house, Lou-lou. Come and see.

Oh dear, your lovely rug and what's that smell? Oh and poor Winston... and your picture of Lord Nelson! That can't be anatomically correct.

I'm going to put this awful thing in the bloody bin. Go through. Greece and Spain are in the kitchen.

Ah Senorita! You look lovely!

Antonio! And Herakles. And a cat...

It is Mr Kitty. For Mr England. But he does not want him.

I didn't bloody say that.

Oh, but I take him home anyway.

Where did you get him anyway?

He was just a little stray, poor little thing. Look, he likes me.

Right, it's time you two were off – bye then.

But we have not had our tea and where is everyone else?

Si, where is Denmark and America and all the others? Gilbert said he was coming.

He's been. And gone. They're at the Police Station.

Oh Arthur...

I know, Lou, I may need some tender loving care later, I feel a little delicate.

I'll stay with you, Arthur.

Senorita, you can come with me, no?

She's bloody well not going with you. She doesn't live with you anymore. Do you want to feel the edge of my blade you Spanish scoundrel?

It's okay, Arthur... I'm sure...

No, Inglaterra. You like little Belgium very much, no?

Just bugger off.

(strumming of guitar is heard)

Love is so wonderful... love between a girl and boy... Love feels like flying... Love does not need a sex toy...

You can bloody well shut up. And get out. And take your bloody stupid guitar with you. And you Greece... but you can leave Mr Kitty.

(slams door)

Bloody foreigners.

Arthur!

Sorry, my love.

(doorbells rings)

Oh no who's that? If that's you Antonio, you can bugger off, you're not coming in.

Helloooo Arthur! It's me Hamish!

Oh bloody hell.

Who is it, Arthur?

It's sodding Scotland, Lou-Lou. Bloody hell.

Open this door, I need to talk to thee, yer Sassanach.

Oh fuck. Just a minute.

I don't understand, Arthur, what's so bad about Scotland?

He's a bloody nutcase that's what he is. He's my older brother. He makes the Nordics look like Minnie Mouse.

Well, I see, I'm going upstairs out of the way.

Get this door open, Arthur yer big Nellie, or I'm kicking it doon.

Okay okay, I'm coming.

Bloody hell, yer big Jessie, what's up?

Nice to see you too, Hamish. What brings you down here?

I hate bloody London, tha' can all piss off. I heard there was trouble an' yer might need a hand.

Erm well, the Nordics are gone now and...

Ha, bunch of bloody nellies. Den thinks he's hard, I could drink him under the table any bloody day. Ach, you look ill, man. I've come to take over as Britain.

You can't bloody do that.

I bloody can and I bloody will. I'm bloody Scotland I am. You're not responsible enough for the job anymore.

Sod off.

Police coming to yer house, arrests. Yer shouldn't let that wee bloody idiot Prussia in. He's a little Jessie.

Ha! I would like to see you deal with them. I mean Russia was here!

Ha Russia! He's a bloody joke, gimmee a shot with him, I'm Scottish I am and I've had me Irn Bru.

Oh dear Lord.

Right, get yersen over to your man there...

What on earth are you talking about?

See your boss and I'll take over...

Sod off.

Well, you're not fit to be Britain anymore, yer big Nellie. Letting them foreigners walk all over yer... I would have kicked their heads in...I mean look at Winston. Tut tut, that just ain't right, drawing a bloody great dick on our great leader's head. Ye shoulda kicked their heads in.

Shut up, this is a respectable household.

(sounds of screaming)

Aye, this is what I'm talking aboot.

Belgium! What's wrong?

Arthur! There's a naked man handcuffed to your bath!

Yer see, that would no' 'appen in Scotland. It's disgusting, that's what it is. An' tha's no whisky. Tch, man, yer a disgrace of a nation.

Shut the bloody hell up.

(sounds of footsteps on stairs)

Oh no... Canada!

Oh thank God it's you, Arthur, please help me. They de-bagged me and then they laughed at me and shoved me in here. Gilbert is awful. My brother did nothing to help me, he didn't even know who I was. I'm so glad you found me before Francis came back.

Francis is never ever setting foot in this house again. Or Gilbert. Or your brother. Here's a towel and... oh handcuffs. I'll go and get my handsaw.

Here yer go, I'm Scottish. It's only a wee bit o' metal. I toss cabers for sport.

(sounds of metal breaking)

Wow thank you, Mr Scotland.

Ach, it's nae problem, wee lassie.

Erm I'm not a girl.

Whatever, tha' looks like a wee girlie.

Oh God, I'll get you some clothes, Matthew. Apologies for my idiot brother.

Has tha' got any booze at all, Arthur?

No, sod off, you're leaving.

I dinnae think so.

(doorbell rings)

Oh God, please let it be someone half-way sensible.

Szia Arthur. I am sorry I could not get here yesterday.

Oh Elizaveta, it's good to see you.

I have a present for you... Oh Hamish.

Oh shit, Hungary...

I thought we sorted this out last time, Hamish.

I'm sorry, Miss Hungary, I never meant...

Yes well, you'd better leave hadn't you?

Aye, Miss... I'm Scotland and I'm going. Say och aye to Austria for me, Lizzy.

We'll see, and did I say you could call me Lizzy?

Aye, well. No, you didn't. I suppose I'd better go...

Yes, I suppose you had.

(door slams)

Oh Hungary, I love you! Thank you so much. How did you do that?

Let's just say he owes me. Here's your present. Oh hello Matthew and Louise.

Oh thank you. A DVD? What of?

I'm sure when you watch it you'll like it. There's some familiar faces on there – or maybe not so much faces.

Oh dear. Who wants a cup of a tea?

(Dictaphone is switched off)

Many hours later Dictaphone is switched on

Hello, Diane. Well after much help from Liz, Louise and Matthew – bless them – I finally got my house looking as it should. Just about. I didn't know Scotland was so scared of Hungary. That's an interesting fact I shall have to remember.

I got a call to say that Gilbert had been put on a plane back to Berlin under armed guard.

America is staying at the embassy and has been on the telephone to Mr Obama – I'm hoping Mr Obama has talked some sense into him and told him to stop hanging around with those idiots.

Denmark was bailed out by Sweden and Finland who rang to tell me that Berwald was going to kick his arse all the way back to Copenhagen.

Francis was bailed out by poor Pierre, but only after finally being found in a changing room with a Police Constable (gender unknown). He's now staying at the French Embassy (France, not the Police Constable), hopefully they will be dosing him with Bromide.

Oh and as a side note, Japan – who wisely had took himself off to watch a foreign film at the cinema rang to tell me that there was an incident at the Imperial War Museum. A bunch of Germans got badly beaten up by a tall blond Russian with a pipe. Apparently it could have been worse if it hadn't been for a small Chinese man who'd led the Russian away with a bottle of vodka.

What is the world coming to? I'm not sure if the Nordics got their wagon wheels, I never asked. But I did hear that Budget Airline flight 666 from London Heathrow to Rome was delayed by 6 hours and then was sat on the tarmac at Rome for another hour due to technical difficulties and a Swissman and an Austrian had to be taken off the plane under armed escort for causing a disturbance.

Dictaphone is switched off

Authors Notes:

Bromide - urban legend that this substance was used to quell sexual feelings in troops - by lacing their tea with it.

Inglaterra – Spanish for England

Si – Spanish for yes

Yassou – Greek for hello

Ochi – Greek for no

Szia – Hungarian for hello

Scottish phrases

Sassanach – Scottish slang for Englishman/person

Thee – you

Doon - down

Dinnae – don't

Tha – you

Och aye – slang for hello

Aye – yes

Wee – small/little

Nae - no

Aboot – about

Irn Bru – a soft drink manufactured in Scotland