America slammed down his hands in the table, interrupting England's nagging. "Why do you always pick on me? Canada is just as unhealthy!" He argued back. England didn't look convinced, so America scowled. "When was the last time you ate at Canada's house? I'll show you!" With those words, he pulled out his phone and began dialling Canada, before England could protest.

"Hello?" Canada answered cautiously. "Yo, bro, it's me!" Canada sighed. "Hi America, how can I help you?" America smirked at England and decided to twist the truth a little. "England was saying how he would like to go to your place and try some Canadian food you know, so I was wondering if you would mind?" America didn't have to see his brother's face to know that Canada was beaming as he answered. "Of course! Come right over! I'll whip something up!"

...

England blanched at the bowl put in from of him. The golden fries were topped with a thick brown gravy, not at all like a thin, smooth, English gravy, and lots of cheese curds. Canada was beaming at him. " Go on, try it!" Reluctantly England took a bite, and he swore he could feel his arteries harden. He smiled painfully at Canada and said weakly "It's very good. Isn't there quite a lot of carbs though?" America boisterously laughed. "Yeah, I call it his 'heart-attack-in-a-bowl'." America laughed. "at least my fries with the works have vegetables in them."

While Canada pouted and America laughed, England quickly dumped the calorie-heavy meal into kumajiro dish. When Canada turned around, England was patting his lips with a napkin. I'm sorry Canada, England thought, but I can't eat that much junk food. Canada looked thrilled to see he staple food gone so quickly, and America gave England a funny look. England blushed and looked away. America decided to ignore that and turned to Canada, demandingly, having finished his own poutine.

"Mattie, dude, where are the chips?" "chips? " England was dismayed. They had just had chips! Canada put several bowls on the table, and England remembered that for some reason, his two former colonies insisted on calling "crisps" "chips". Canada was describing the flavours happily. "These ones are ketchup flavored, these ones are all dressesld, and I got these from PEI," He guestured at a bowl "Theyre chocolate covered!" "They're what? " Even America looked put off, looking a little queasy, but under his brother's sparkling gaze, he reluctantly took one and ate one. "These aren't too bad! " America decided, grabbing a handful.

England tasted a ketchup chip, and instantly couched into his napkin. His eyes watered painfully and he turned tearfully to Canada. "why are they spicy?" he asked. Canada looked surprised. "Eh?" "Only a prissy man like you would think ketchup is spicy!" America laughed. England pouted, pushing the chips away. "Well, that was a very good dinner," He began, lying through his teeth. Canada perked up.

"Time for desert!" Canada announced, disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing with a tray of sweets. He put it down in front of England. "I brought butter tarts, and Nanaimo bars, and of course, Beavertails!" Canada declared happily. England looked horrified. "Beaver tails?" He repeated, a little queasily. Canada laughed. "It's just what I call this deep-fried dough with sweet spreads and candies or fruit on it." he explained. "Because it's shaped like a Beavertail." England finally realized what America had been trying to say earlier. Everything Canada had served him was extremely unhealthy.

Canada didn't seem to notice England's expression, and once again, disappeared into the kitchen in to reappear with a hot pot of amber liquid. "Since you're here," Canada explained with shinning eyes, "I thought we could make maple syrup candies together!" England smiled at this. It wouldn't be Canada without maple syrup. "What do you mean?" he asked simply. "Let's go outside!" Canada dragged England outside by the arm, and America trailed behind, a knowing smile on his face as he watched for England's reaction.

"See?" Canada explained, turning to England." You just pour the boiled syrup on the snow, and then use a stick to scoop it up-" He demonstrated, scooping the cooling syrup up on a stick." Like so! " He presented a stick to England as though it was a royal sceptre. England took it, agast. America had already eaten two and was working on his third, while Canada was on his tenth. England looked at the hardened syrup on a stick and spoke slowly. "Canada," he said as gently as he could. "Maybe you should consider going on a diet."

Canada dropped his stick of maple candy and turned pale as a ghost. For moment there was dead silence, then Canada collapsed in the snow and loud wail split the air.

"Nnnnnnnoooooooo!"

America collapsed too, from laughing too hard.