Chapter 12: Let's Do The (Slightly Drunken) Time Warp Again
"Beer is proof that God loves us, and wants us to be happy." - Benjamin Franklin
Waking up to the sound of cows mooing directly into your ear is really never a good thing. Especially if that ear is partially submerged in something wet and earth-smelling. From above, a long, moist tongue darted out and skimmed the dirt-caked hair of a certain British nation.
Britain groaned, long and slow.
He felt like death.
No, scratch that.
He felt like he'd been chewed up, swallowed, digested, shat out, and then forced to compete in one of America's god-forsaken toddler pageants in nothing but a mesh bra and yoga pants.
So yeah, like death.
The sun shone hot on his back and made him grunt in discomfort. The Brit attempted to roll onto his side, but found that even that small action caused his head to spin painfully and a myriad of colorful swears to erupt from his strained vocal chords.
The nation once again found himself where he had been finding himself for hundreds of years: face down in an alcohol-induced, semi-conscious stupor, in who-the-fuck-knows-where.
Another slimy lick to the face forced Britain to open his eyes, and when he did, he let out a half-sob half-groan.
There was a fucking cow. In his face. Looking at him with it's big fucking cow eyes.
"Dear God..." The Brit said, rolling onto his back and shielding his gaze from the sun. "What the fuck happened last night!?" The cow blinked and didn't answer. It did lick him again, which made a few frustrated and disgusted tears dribble down the tiny man's face. "Stop that! Can't you see I'm confused and in pain, you brown-eyed meat sack!?" The cow mooed.
Britain pushed himself up on all fours and blinked, looking around. He was in a place he had never seen before, a long pasture filled with livestock and a small very old-looking white building off to the side. He sighed. This wasn't the first time he's wandered off somewhere in a drunken haze and it most definitely wouldn't be the last. Better call his boss to come and get him. The longer he stayed away from work the more likely the queen was to slap him upside the head when he returned to London.
And man could that woman slap a bitch.
Upon getting to his feet, Britain noticed something. He was, in fact, not alone. Scattered around him in various states of nudity and unconsciousness were many of his fellow nations. France, China, Japan, Prussia, Germany, both Italies, Russia, Spain, and Lithuania to be exact. Some of them were draped over each other like great floppy pancakes, while some cuddled with various inanimate objects such as knives, lamps, and stolen garden gnomes. To be sure, all of them were severely hung-over, as one might have inferred by their chorus of painful groans and prayers to God.
Britain scratched his head and stalked over to France. The man was almost completely naked, with nothing but a tiny grass skirt to cover his nether regions.
The Brit promptly kicked him in the shin, and was rewarded by a stream of angry French cuss-words.
"Get up, you tosser!" He said irritably. "All of you, wake up! We need to figure out where the hell we are." The nations all groaned and hauled themselves into various up-right positions, some throwing up, some just swearing a bunch.
"What aru!?" Exclaimed China when he saw where they were. "Where are we? I thought we were in cream-cheese city!"
"Philadelphia, aniki," said Japan, looking green. "And yes, last I checked that was where the World Conference was being held."
"Well, we aren't there now, that's for sure," said Germany. He was trying to keep Italy from slitting his own throat in misery.
"Let me die ve," he moaned. "Just let me die! Mio Dio I'm never going to drink again ve!"
"That's my line, git," said Britain, crossing his arms. "And we have more important things to deal with. Does anyone have a phone we can use?"
"I do," said Russia, smiling happily.
"Well, give it here then, I'll call America so she can come pick us up!"
"One problem, comrade," said Russia. He pointed at Prussa. "It had been surgically implanted into little Prussia's lower intestine!"
There was silence. Fearful silence. Broken only by a horrified scream from Prussia.
"My awesome organs!"
"Be quiet, mi amigo, some of us are trying to sleep!" Said Spain, who was using the front legs of a passing cow as a pillow.
"This is getting us nowhere!" Growled Germany, taking charge as per usual. "There is a house just over there! Let's see if there's anyone home and then we can establish a location."
The nations all nodded and stood up.
They moved like a horde of zombies towards the house, and once they got to the porch, Germany and Britain, who were the only two nations that had managed to hold on to all of their clothing, knocked on the door. A minute later, a young woman answered it.
Everyone gawked.
She was wearing clothes from at least the eighteenth century, complete with hair bonnet and a long frock.
At the silence, and at the sight of several highly attractive men wearing little to nothing on their highly attractive bodies, the woman frowned. "May I help you... gentlemen?" She said, keeping a firm grip on the door frame.
Germany coughed. "Umm, yes, ma'am, we were just wondering if you could tell us where we are?"
"Smith farm, Pennsylvania." She said immediately.
"Yes, that's great thank you," Germany coughed awkwardly. "And uh, would you mind if we used your phone? We ah, seem to have misplaced ours."
The woman then looked confused. "A what?"
"A phone." Germany said slowly. "Can we use one?"
"Whatever that is, we haven't got one." Said the woman. There was a resounding gasp from the nations gathered.
"NO TELEPHONE!?" Cried Romano and France simultaneously.
"That's right," the woman said, looking uncomfortable. "Now, if you'll please leave. My husband will be coming back from tending the fields soon and he won't be very pleased to see a mess of sinners flocked around his home."
"Sinners? What?" Lithuania said, arching an eyebrow.
"Good day, gentlemen." And with that, the woman practically slammed the door in Britain and Germany's faces.
There was silence.
"Well that was strange." Said France.
"Da, it was rather unusual." Said Russia. "But we are in America, so anything is possible because the police do not violently beat their citizens to keep them in line!"
"TMI Russia, TMI," said Britain.
"Well now what do we do, bastards?" Said Romano, placing his hands on his hips. "We're stranded in the middle of nowhere with no phone to call for reinforcements! This is how people get raped!"
"No more Law and Order for you, Lovi," Said Spain.
"I believe it would be best to try and scout our surroundings." Said Japan. "Perhaps we will come across road that can take us back to Philadelphia. I am sure America-san is worried about us."
"Yes, that does sound like the best course of action," said Britain. "Alright then, gentlemen, let's go! We've got three more days of boring-ass negotiations to sit through and I don't want to miss them!"
The nations all nodded their agreement and began their long walk to the dirt road that stretched out from the front of the house.
They walked along it for a little while, Prussia whining about having to receive corrective surgery upon returning home and Britian saying "Walk it off, ya bloody Mary Sue!" As they went, however, the nations began to notice certain thins about their surroundings that struck them as peculiar.
First of all, were the people.
Everyone they met was dressed as though they were pre-colonials, and they all had freakishly biblical names like Jebediah, Gabriel, Abraham, and so on.
Second, was the lack of all things twentieth-century
There were no cars, only these small weird looking horse-drawn buggies. And there were no power lines. It seemed as if there was a definite lack of electricity throughout the entire area, which was disturbing.
Third, everyone they passed had a beard so incredible in length and body that it would make Jesus weep with joy.
Seriously. It was amazing how awesome the beards around this place were. They glistened in the summer sun and occasionally got caught in the ancient farming equipment that freaking everyone seemed to be using.
The whole thing was beginning to make the nations a tad uncomfortable.
"Umm, guys?" Said Lithuania tentatively. "It's been, like, two hours, and we still haven't seen any cars."
"I know," said Britain, gravely. "It's beginning to concern me. And just look! It's like everyone within a five-mile radius is trying to cosplay fucking colonial America!" At the thought of America as a little colony Britain swooned and his heart pounded a little faster.
"What if it is?" Italy said suddenly.
"Huh?" Everyone said, turning to look at the small nation.
"What if we're really in colonial America ve!?" Italy cried, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "What if last night, we got so drunk we literally reversed the flow of history!? I didn't know we could do that!"
There was a long, pregnant pause.
And then panic.
"Merde! That erases centuries' worth of immorality that I can never get back!" - France
"Does this mean you foreigners will finally leave me the fuck alone!?" - China
"I can't handle britches! They make my thighs hurt!" - Italy
"Woohoo! No mafia debts!" - Romano
"My awesome organs! Does NO ONE care about my awesome organ!?" - Prussia
"..." - Germany
"... Mr. Russia, please don't think about world domination at a time like this!" - Lithuania
"Tee-hee!" - Russia
"NOOOOOOOOOOO! My armada!" - Spain.
"SHUT UP YOU BLOODY WANKERS!" Britain cried, smacking the Spain upside the head. He then turned to glare at the other panicking nations. "Now listen up! We have NOT traveled through time. We are NOT in colonial America. We are GOING to get back to Philadelphia even if France has to die to make it so. And I WOULD HAVE destroyed Spain's damn armada anyways no matter what he says! Have I made myself clear you bloody gits!?"
Everyone blinked.
"Then how do you explain everything?" Italy said, peering out from the headlock Germany had caught him in.
England paused. He thought about everything for a moment, and then his face went as pale as the flesh of an otaku.
"Fuck a duck we're in the bloody past."
And the panic resumed.
Thiry-Seven Minutes Later...
"Yello!"
"Good Afternoon, Miss Amelia, this is Jed, from the Mennonite town just outside Philly?"
"Sup dude! I haven't heard from you guys in like... thirty years!"
"Yes, it had been a rather long time. Well, the reason I'm calling you is because we've had a bit of trouble over in the Amish part of town that I think only YOU will be able to resolve."
"Trouble? What kind of trouble? I eat trouble for breakfast with milk and a beer!"
"... Lovely. It's actually regarding your... er... friends. Or at least they said they were your friends. One of them keeps shouting 'Amelia darling! Daddy wants to glomp you!' It's rather annoying."
"Jesus Christ."
"Indeed. Anyhow, could you please hop a bus over here and take care of things? The Amish Mafia is about to get involved and I don't think ANYONE wants to see that."
"I'm on my way. Don't let Arthur castrate Francis until I get over there."
"Thank you ma'am. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
"Who was that, Amelia?"
"... Mattie, get the shovel."
"The shovel, why?"
"Because when I'm done with those shit-heads, they're gonna need something to scrape themselves off the pavement."
"We're going to Amish country aren't we."
"You bet your sweet maple we are."
"Jesus Christ."
"Indeed, Mattie. Indeed."
One Bus Ride and Two Civil Rights Violations Later...
America arrived on the scene to find her two fathers stuck in a tree, arguing about who was going to control the "New World" and threatening each other with stolen butter knives.
She could pretty much guess what had occurred. Beside her, Mathew face-palmed.
"Attention feminine immortals!" America screamed at the top of her lungs. The eyes of ten hung-over nations turned to her. "You are all still slightly drunk! Come out with your hands up and your clothes on, and I WON'T tell your bosses that you got plastered and wandered into Amish country and I had to come get you."
Ten faces lit up in an embarrassed blush.
France and Britain exited their tree.
Italy was released from Germany's death grip.
Germany rubbed his head and prayed for the maker to take him now.
Spain cried "My armada!"
China and Japan sighed and pouted.
Romano was engaged in a conversation with three skinny white dudes with guns on how to be a REAL mafia.
And Prussia was being air-lifted to a hospital for emergency surgery.
Canada and America made all the nations line up and march to the bus waiting on the dirt road a little ways away. But not before kicking a little ass and screaming a few profanities. They all got on the bus and drove the short way back to Philadelphia.
And Russia and Lithuania?
They got a really good deal on some hand made Amish aprons and butter-churns.
Chapter Next! - Sharks, Sun, Sand, And Inappropriately Touching People While Applying Lotion To Their Bodies
