Germany sighed as he walked down to the meeting room. There had been some excitement over the Winter Olympics, so not much work was being done. Again. Thinking about how he was going to try to keep order in the meeting room, (and how to hide the body paint from his brother), he suddenly heard footsteps running towards him. As he rounded the corner, he saw someone run into the broom closet, and slam the door behind them. For a moment, Germany wondered what the hell just happened. At first, he thought about turning around and pretending he didn't see anything, but curiosity got the better of him, and he walked over to the door. Clearing his throat, he knocked on the door.

"Um, is someone in here?" Germany asked awkwardly.

"Germany?" A muffled voice replied. "Is that you dude?"

"America?" Germany asked, completely bewildered. "Why are you in the broom closet?"

Flinging the door open, America grabbed Germany by the front of his suit and pulled him into the closet, slamming the door behind them. Turning to Germany, he put his finger to his lips.

"Shh, don't let him hear us!" America hissed, glancing at the door behind them. "I don't want to be found."

"Huh?" Germany asked. "Who?"

"Him!" America whispered in fear. "Haven't you heard? He's mad, MAD I tell you!"

"Who?" Germany asked, getting more concerned.

"He's already taken down Russia. Russia couldn't out run him, the poor devil. He took down the Nordics yesterday, they put up a good fight, but they never stood a chance. I think Finland's ok, but the rest of them are down for the count." America muttered, more to himself than Germany.

"America, what's going on?" Germany asked, getting freaked out by the strange behavior.

"Italy, France, Japan, and Australia where defeated this morning." America said, finally looking at Germany in the eyes. "I barely got out in time. But he's after me next."

"WHO?" Germany finally shouted, getting frustrated at the lack of information.

"Canada!" America almost sobbed. "Don't you know? It's the winter Olympics! Do you know what that means?!"

"Nein." Germany said.

"It means Hockey." America said in a horrified whisper. "He's usually scary with it most of the time, but when the winter Olympics come around, he's like the devil!" Wringing his hands in worry, America glanced at the door again. "He goes after everyone and anyone!"

For a moment, Germany looked at America in confusion, then he remembered what happened when he and Prussia had played with Canada about two years ago, and his face went white.

"Mein Gott, Prussia?" Germany asked, looking worried. America hung his head, shaking his head sadly. "He sacrificed himself for Hungary and Austria."

"We have to get out of here." Germany muttered, walking over to the door and peeking out. "We're sitting ducks here."

"Is it safe?" America asked.

"I don't see him." Germany said, motioning for America to follow him. "Let's make a break for it."

At first, it really seemed that they had gotten away, as they didn't encounter Canada on their way through the halls, but as they neared the front doors, Canada appeared behind them, with the dark aura that Russia usually had around him, and a creepy ass smile.

"America." Canada sung sweetly. "Where are you going?" Then spotting Germany, his smile got wider. "Germany, I didn't know you were here."

"Oh no, Germany, run!" America shouted, turning around to face his brother.

"What about you?" Germany asked, looking horrified as America stopped.

"I'll hold him off!" America said, looking terrified. "You won't make it if he catches you! RUN!"

"Thank you, I won't forget this!" Germany said, and he ran off, listening to the scream of terror America gave off as he ran out the doors, vowing to not come to any meetings that Canada attended for the next few weeks.

A/N: It's the Winter Olympics. The Canadians have risen. FLEE, FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES! Lol, not really. But yeah, it's the winter Olympics guys! They aren't, as popular as the summer ones here in America though, but I like to watch the ice skating. I like hockey Canada, he's fun to write for. (Sorry if this is a bit random, but really, I have a feeling this would happen.)