"Hello?" Germany answered the phone, stopping short on his way out for an evening stroll.

"Listen up, blondy," a raspy voice buzzed. "I have your cute Italian companion secured in my clutches. If you ever wanna see him again you'll do precisely as I say."

Germany frowned. Of course, on his only weekend off...

"I want twelve cases of beer delivered to the coordinates you'll receive momentarily through text, and not that dry stuff either, got it?"

"Enough, brother. I thought you were out of country."

"I'm not your brother," the voice glibbed, "...but I hear that guy's awesome."

On the other end of the line in the static of the background there was a crash. "Whoops!"

"Ah! Ita-chan!-? What happened to my magazines!-?"

"Waaah! It's spreading! Someone HELP!"

"Get the fire extinguisher! Get the-"

The line went dead.

After a short moment Germany slipped his phone into his pocket and double checked he had his wallet. Tonight suddenly seemed less like a nice-relaxing-stroll night and more like a have-a-few-drinks night.