Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit - Basically, you can't get anything done without putting in work.

"Ve~ what you need to do is to get over your denial that you like butt sex, and get under a hot guy."

"Who says I wouldn't top?" Romano huffed and crossed his arms. There was a long pause, after which he blurted frantically, "And I don't like butt sex, or hot guys!"

"Well, what other options do you have?"

"Belgium! Belgium's a girl! And Hungary, and Liechtenstein, and Ukraine, and Monaco…and don't forget Taiwan and Vietnam! And, of course…B-Belarus too…"

"Ve~ hate to break it to you, but your sad, desperate attempts at seduction have long since turned Belgium off. And Hungary's with Austria, and Taiwan is with Vietnam, and Liechtenstein and Monaco are underage, and Russia watches Ukraine like a hawk, and Belarus…is Belarus."

"W-what's wrong with Belarus?" Romano whimpered. "I-I think she's a very nice girl."

"Fratello, don't stick your dick in crazy. Belarus would chop it off."

Romano shuddered, then sniffed pathetically. "Okay, so what do I do now?"

Veneziano chuckled to himself, somewhat self-satisfied. "Don't you mean, who do you do now?"

Romano cringed but remained cowed into silence. Veneziano cleared his throat awkwardly. "Okay, so I've taken the liberty of making of a list of countries to seduce. All of them are guaranteed to get Spain off your ass once you're dating."

Romano scanned the list. "Portugal! What—"

Veneziano clicked his tongue and commanded, "Just keep reading, fratello." Romano afforded his brother a suspicious sideways glance, but continued.

"Portugal, France, Netherlands, Luxembourg, Greece, Turkey, Egypt…and Russia?!"

"I took care to make sure they were in the empire so that Spain couldn't attack them! Ve~ I have good ideas sometimes!"

Romano choked out, "But why Russia?"

"Ah, well, even Spain's terrified of Russia!"

"I'm terrified of Russia!"

"But piroshkies are so good, and you'd get all the vodka you could ask for, so you'd always be drunk enough to forget that you're sleeping with Russia!"

"You make an excellent point." Romano conceded, somewhat bitterly.

Veneziano grinned, though as a thought occurred to him, it quickly dimmed. "Ve~"

"What?"

"I don't think this will work though…"

"Why? Romano inquired, visibly panicked. "If this doesn't work, I have no other way to get rid of Spangna…"

"It's just that…well…despite being an Italian, your seduction skills are…" Romano glared with frightening intensity, but Veneziano continued bluntly and obliviously, as usual. "Well…they're crap."

Three Brits, two sober and one completely wasted, lounged in a dark corner of the atrium, looking on balefully at the third raging party of the week, as Egypt approached.

"It's a bit isolating, isn't it?"

"Tch, nah, s'not so great bein' part o' thuh con'nent! We' doing juuuuust fine 'ere, yea?"

Wales raked his hands through his chestnut hair. "Please excuse him. He will be attending an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting within the next few weeks…he…he has got a serious problem."

"Ah, I understand." Egypt sunk down beside them. "Here, have some water."

"It won' turn me inna a womaaaaan…will eh?"

"At least if you were a woman you could get men to buy you your drinks." Sealand muttered sideways. England squinted. "Ey. Ey. Cheeky little bugger." He gulped down the water and was soon passed out on Wales, snoring lightly.

Suddenly trumpets blasted through the atrium, disrupting the dull roar of the party. The Roman Empire burst into the hall, smiling broadly with shiny white teeth. "ATTENTION! I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE."

Everyone listened in hushed anticipation. What would it be? Was it a plan to conquer new territories outside of the empire? Had Rome finally overcome his fear of flushing toilets? Maybe it could even be a lifetime's supply of condoms for everyone?

"Ve~ Someone gets to have sex with fratello!" Veneziano piped up to the immediate uproar of the crowd of nations.

"WH-WHAT HE MEANS IS, IS IN SEVEN DAYS—IS…ALRIGHT, EVERYONE SHUT UP!"

Everyone shut up.

"IN SEVEN DAYS, THERE WILL BE A PARTY—"

"What a surprise." Wales muttered from the non-mainland corner.

"THERE WILL BE A PARTY, AND ROMANO WILL CHOOSE SOMEONE TO DATE, AND ALSO MAKE PASSIONATE LOVE TO, AND MAYBE SETTLE DOWN AND HAVE A COUPLE KIDS WITH, AND TO GROW OLD TOGETHER WITH, SO ANYONE WHO IS INTERESTED HAD BETTER SEIZE THE OPPORTUNITY!"

The hall erupted into gossip again as Romano tugged on the Empire's cloak and whispered loudly. "Don't forget, except Spain."

"OH, RIGHT, ER—EXCEPT SPAIN."

Suddenly there was a low growl from the crowd, and everyone fell deadly silent again. Spain stalked up to the Roman Empire, brandishing his iphone menacingly. Rome shrank back, trembling.

"Witchcraft, witchcraft…" He began to tear up.

Spain hissed predatorily, eyes darkened with fury. "HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? LOVI AND I WILL BE TOGETHER, OR…I'LL…I'LL TURN ON MY PHONE, AND I'LL PLAY ANGRY BIRDS."

"No! No please!" Rome whimpered pathetically. "Anything! I'll give you anything you ask!"

"I WANT—" Spain suddenly sank to the ground, a bottle of Port shattering against his thick, but not impervious, skull.

"Hehe, sorry about that…" Portugal tossed away the neck of the bottle, heaved his brother up and dragged him slowly out of the Atrium as the other nations stared.