A/N: I've been trying to make longer chapters. They've been slowly increasing in length. :P

One fine summer day in the streets of New York, a certain American hottie strolled down the sidewalk scantily clad in a Speedo from his previous encounter with England. The tiny article of clothing (if you can call that anymore) hugged his very large bottom deliciously and all of the woman who passed him (and men, coincidentally) stopped and ogled his very finely sculpted butt.

It should really be characterized as the "Walk of Shame," considering he was walking back from a certain nation's apartment after getting drunk and doing naughty things with the man and somehow ended up getting topped.

Although, his Walk of Shame could be deemed a Walk of Glory because he made it look so good. All of the other whores (yes, I DID just imply he was a whore) who were out for one-night-stands and were blatantly returning home from their dirty deeds the night before could only look ashamed and horrible since they had no access to make-up in another man's apartment.

America, however, only managed to glow radiantly in the morning sun- permeating masculinity and testosterone in his Speedo. His expression remained stoic behind those glasses, however, and his amazing composure in such a ridiculously (yet oddly alluring) revealing outfit made him strangely appealing to people, and he soon had a following.

Suddenly, a stereotypical 80s guy ran up with a stereo seated on his shoulders and he started playing the Thriller, which the American and his followers started dancing to in unison. America was obviously Michael Jackson, making his crotch-grabs very graphic and fanservice-y indeed. No one really minded, though things started to turn ugly when America started shooting people thinking they were Zombiechus.

A few blocks down people grew tired of getting shot and dancing to the incredibly long and boring (yet incredibly sung) song by MJ the alleged child eater, and somehow America had managed to change into a red jumpsuit in the few blocks they had gone, making him slightly less attractive to his audience. He hardly even noticed that his preceding had bailed anyway.

Eventually he traveled in a complete circle, ending up to where he started. But this time, Japan stood waiting.

"I've been standing here, waiting." He said. America narrowed his eyes.

"I've been walking here, walking."

"I need the pickle. It's important for the fluff trolls," Japan stated solemnly

"Not happening," America retorted.

"Then you leave me no choice," said Japan.

He pulled a shotgun out of his pants (God knows where he put it, yet he wished he didn't) and pointed it at America's head.

America gasped and his jaw dropped in surprise, "you wouldn't!"

"I would" responded Japan mercilessly, cocking the shotgun.

"You can't!" cried America desperately.

"I can~" Japan sing-songed in return.

America's sky-blue eyes welled with tears as he stared at a random squid with huge, desu-desu eyes, silently begging him for rescue.

"I-I... Fine," submitted the squid as he pulled away from a body with a sickening squelch sound. The body shakily got to his feet as the squid slid over to America after Japan retracted his gun, which he then used to shoot the person in the appendix for no apparent reason.

Ignoring the body's screams of agony, the squid used a suction cup to tilt up the blonde's face which was stained with tears and Kool-Aid.

"Th-Thought you were gonna leave me fer a second there..." muttered the American uncertainly as the squid blanched.

Sparkles and roses started to bloom and sparkle around them both (in that order) while they stared deeply into each other's eyes.

"You know I would never, ever do that to you, Tutti Frutti," said the squid as he leaned in close, puckering his lips.

"Oh, Rudy," whispered America, letting his eyes slip closed in anticipation.

The squid's mouth fell open in shock. "Who's Rudy?" he exclaimed in outrage.

The blonde's eyes shot open in recognition and panic.

"No, Squidy, that's not what I mea-" he received a sharp slap from a tentacle before he could finish, effectively knocking him out.

"Screw it; we're talking about this at home."

So the squid tried to drag America to his spaceship that was in the shape of some sort of phallic thing that the author doesn't want to say, but was stopped by Japan, who used his ninja Pikachu skills and turned the squid into pineapple-flavoured calamari. Frustrated, the squid threw America over his shoulder. America slumped to the ground as a scream was heard somewhere else. He shot off into space as Japan and a revived America watched from Earth, waving silently with handkerchiefs.

The author can't believe she didn't make an E.T. joke there.

A few seconds later they saw the spaceship spiraling towards Earth once more as the squid screamed, "THE FOURTH WALL HAS COLLAPSED!" from the interior.

An explosion sounded in the distance as Japan turned to America.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"Wanna play DDR?"

"Sure."

So they did.

Then America got pissed because Japan kept beating him, so he called the Powerpuff Girls who blew up all the squids instead- with nukes that they acquired from Korea, who always has a surplus.

Even later, Japan carried the buff-as-Chuck-Norris America back to his home, nearly dropping him on several occasions, so he decided to use his magic wand to try the Wingardrium Leviosa charm but he said it wrong then got pissed again and broke his wand in half. Then Indiana Jones swung in and kicked Japan to the house then threw them some dynamite so they could blow up the entrance to the house even though it was unlocked. James Bond greeted them with only an apron on while he stirred a vat of toxic waste for some milkshakes as they made their way to their fish bowl.

Once there, they went at it like two Energizer bunnies on crack.