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Driving Lessons Chapter 39 - London Calling
England would never have expected to find himself on the Tube with Germany, three dead kings and Russia.
They were on their way to Vargas Pizzeria. The whole city was gridlocked and it was centered around this particular establishment.
It would obviously have been easier for the police and the army to sort out the 'Vargas Anomaly' as it was now termed, but due to the fact that it was obviously a Nation problem, I.e. that it was the Italy brothers and America who were causing what was now the biggest commotion since the London Blitz, it seemed expedient that England himself sort it out. Also the Prime Minister had told England that if she had found out it was anything to do with him telling America to go and bloody get a job, then she would make sure he never get back his status as Great Britain.
"So this is the tube?" Russia asked. Again.
"Yes, Russia," England replied.
"I've just seen a poster for a play about Richard the Third!" King Henry VI exclaimed.
England shook his head and wondered what to say to that. "Shakespeare," he said as an answer. He prayed that there wasn't an advertisement to Shakespeare's other plays - namely one about Henry himself.
"Horrible man. I can't believe he became King!" Henry moaned.
"Oh shut up!" one of the Georges said, his wig askew. (England wondered if the two Georges had been drinking down in the Buckingham Palace cellars.) "You were a rubbish King."
"I was King of France as well as England!" Henry said.
"Yes but not for long! The French didn't like you. King Louis sorted you out."
"Will you two shut up!" England hissed as members of the public stared at them.
"This is great," Russia said, sitting back, watching and drinking vodka from a bottle he'd had hidden in his giant coat pockets. (His pockets were 'giant', he hadn't stolen a coat from a giant…)
"Is this some kind of performance art?" a drunk old man asked them from down the carriage.
"Erm… it could be?" England replied.
Germany shook his head, "Allow me, Arthur," he said and stood up. "We are indeed rehearsing a play," he told the occupants of the carriage.
Someone shook their copy of the London Evening Standard and said something about 'art students'.
"It's about the fall of a Nation!" Germany continued.
England sat back and crossed his arms.
"I say!" George the First exclaimed.
"…and his gradual descent into madness," Germany continued.
"Oh do bugger off," England said.
"Is there an Angel called Islington?" Russia said suddenly. He was studying a map of London.
"That's classified," England replied.
"Where do you get tickets for this play?" somebody in the carriage asked them as they pulled into a tube station.
"You can't," England said, hopping off quickly onto the platform. He quickly hurried back in and grabbed Russia and King Henry. He kind of hoped that he could leave Germany and the two Georges behind but no such luck.
Russia, now wearing a giant Union Jack hat, shook England's hand off his arm and was about to punch him when he was interrupted by the more appealing idea of punching Germany who had alighted onto the platform with him.
"Why are you wearing that stupid hat?" Germany asked the Russian.
Russia answered by punching him.
"Never mind," Germany said, holding his bleeding nose.
"He stole it from a tourist," George the Second said.
"Right blokes, let's do this!" England said, heading towards the escalator.
There was confusion at this.
"What is this sorcery?" George the First exclaimed.
"Precisely! First we have giant metal horses that run underground and now this!" Henry VI said.
"That was a train! Don't you know anything?" George the Second said.
"Well you didn't know! You've never seen one before either!" George the First said.
"Last time I visited Arthur he took me to the Arena of Wembley to see the Ideal Home Exhibition!" George the Second told his royal father, his eyes misting over. "We traveled on the number 19 bus and I saw a train going past!"
"You really know how to treat royalty, don't you?" Germany said to England.
"You need to tip your head forward when your nose is bleeding," England said, shoving Germany's head down.
"Royalty such as us should have arrived by golden carriage!" George the First said, he then added, "Where's my wig?"
It was true, his wig was gone.
England looked round and saw it sailing off, still trapped in the doors of the train carriage as the tube train pulled away from the platform. "Oh well…" It looked like a very hairy kite.
"Why do you wear a wig? You have hair anyway," Russia asked.
"It is customary for people of good breeding," King George told him.
"You looked like a lady," Russia said.
"Anyway…back to reality…" England said and stepped on the 'up' escalator.
He was not followed as he had hoped.
The two Georges and the Henry all stood at the bottom giving Russia a history of royal wigs.
Germany was still trying to stem the blood loss from his nose.
"I say! Blokes?!" England called.
"How did you get up there?" Russia called.
"Escalator! You have them in your bloody country!" England yelled back.
Russia did not like his country being called a 'bloody country' - even though it was - literally. He bounded up the escalator to punch England and England promptly jumped on the 'down' escalator.
"This is a game for kings!" George the First announced and jumped on the 'down' escalator and tried to go up. He found himself stuck at the bottom. He frowned.
"You are a fool, father," George the Second told him. "You have to run like Arthur." King George II of England then tried to run up the down escalator but found he was getting nowhere.
"No!" England said. "You need to go on the up one!"
"It makes no sense," King Henry said to George the First, who nodded and then shook his head.
Russia ran down the down escalator, barreling past George II and tried to hit England, who then ran up the up escalator.
"See?" England yelled and then yelped when Russia chased after him.
"Ah! That verily makes sense," George the Second said and ever the supposed 'innovator' got on the down escalator. Again. He tried to run up and then lost his wig on one of the steps.
England ran down, tried to shove George the Second out of the way and grab the wig before it jammed the whole mechanism but found his way blocked by the other two dead kings.
"I do not think this is correct," King Henry said.
"Neither do I," George the First said. "I wish I were back in Hanover."
"So do I," England said as the wig became caught in the mechanism at the end and there was a horrid screeching noise.
By now someone who had been observing the stupidity on a CCTV display and assuming, quite rightly, that it was the work of mindless hooligans, had pressed the alarm.
Russia barreled down the up escalator which had now ground to a halt.
"You made it stop!" King Henry said to Russia.
"Da!" Russia seemed amazed at his own aptitude. He had no idea how.
"I think rather it was King George's wig…" England said lamely. Russia growled at him.
"I think the bleeding's stopped!" Germany said. He looked round.
There were security guards coming down towards them, alarms were going off. Three medieval Kings apparently having a crisis on a broken down escalator and England looked as if he were about to make a run for it.
Germany did not blame the English Nation for his attempt at escape but he did blame him for getting him punched and for leaving him with these imbeciles.
"Come on! Quickly!" Germany said and ushered the three Kings up the escalator.
"The metal contraption is not moving I see," George I told Germany.
"Ja ja ja… get on with it!" Germany said.
"You there! Stop!" one of the security men shouted.
Germany pushed the three Kings out into the open air. Behind him he heard the unmistakable voice of Russia growling in answer, "Me? You want to talk to me?"
"Oh dear…" Germany muttered.
But they had no time for that. England was waiting for them on the pavement at the entrance to the underground tube station. "Oh right… there you are!" England said. He looked disappointed.
"Ja. Danke for waiting…" Germany muttered.
"Well I can't afford to be arrested again. I have to get to Pizzeria Vargas. I'm sure all this has something to do with Alfred," England said.
Germany looked around at the absolute chaos surrounding them.
The traffic was nose to tail as far as the eye could see and at a standstill. Busses, cars, taxis. Nobody was moving.
"This is why we caught the bloody train," England told one of the Georges.
King Henry looked around, "Have the French invaded?" he asked tremulously.
"No. It's worse than that," England said in a hushed voice.
Germany arched an eyebrow.
"I believe it's Alfred's new job," England said after a dramatic pause.
There was a few moments' silence.
"You mean he has a job as a traffic warden?" came a voice behind them.
They all screamed.
It was Russia. He was twirling his lead pipe as if it were a baton. He was still wearing a Union Jack hat.
"What happened to those guards?" Germany said after swallowing hard.
"They have been dealt with," Russia said darkly. (In fact they had been left tied up in a cleaner's cupboard with 'wedgies' - a new torture Russia had learned from Prussia.)
Germany gulped.
"Why do you think it's the boy who's behind all this?" George the Second asked England getting back to Englishman's announcement.
"Because… he foolishly texted me ten minutes ago before the whole mobile network was overloaded." England held up his phone to show them.
"Bonjour chérie, je veux dormir avec toi?" Germany read out. "That's a strange text for him to send you, isn't it?"
England blushed bright red.
Russia's mouth dropped open and he also went bright red.
The three kings shuffled, not looking at one another.
"Not that one!" England yelled and tried to find the correct one. "Damn him…"
Germany cocked an eyebrow.
England scrolled through feverishly with Germany looking over his shoulder.
"You are a completely rubbish dad and I've told Swe and Fin that I'm never coming to stay with you ever ever again. PS Can you send me some pocket money? Sealand." Germany read out loud.
Russia shook his head. He seemed to find England's parenting skills deplorable as well.
"Dear Mr Kirkland the South London and Peckham Allotment Recreational Society (SLAPARSE) are hereby informing you that due to your disregard for societal norms and the dire state of your plot, in particular your allowing of the cultivation of cannabis by known criminals, that your tenancy at the above allotment is rescinded. Yours faithfully." Germany read this out.
"How did you do that? Is that an email? How did I get an email?" England was looking at this phone in complete bafflement.
"You just don't care, do you?" Germany said, appalled.
"It's a sad state of affairs when you're thrown off an allotment," one of the Kings pronounced.
Even Russia looked shocked. "I've always underestimated you, England," Russia said in awe.
England looked at them all. "Where's that bloody text? Ah yes… Here we are…" he said finally with much exasperation. "Yo Artie dude, I got myself a job. It's ace. It's wiv the Italy bros. They are hilarious and I get to eat all the pizzas I want! It's easy. All I have to do is answer the phone. I take the order and send out Romano! I mean what can go wrong?"
The three Nations and the three kings looked around at the blocked street, the horns blasting, the helicopters flying overhead.
"This is your fault of course," Germany told England.
"Gawd this is so frickin' easy!" America said to himself, his feet up on the desk as he ate another pizza - his sixth of the evening. He wondered how the the 'others' were getting on. Obviously they would be missing the hero but you can't be everywhere at once can you?
Behind him, the chef of this esteemed establishment did not think this was 'easy' at all. Feliciano Vargas, one part twelfth owner of the chain of Cafe Vargas pizzerias and pasta restaurants, was laid flat on the floor in his chef's whites quietly sobbing.
The fact that he was sobbing quietly was because he was drunk and America, who Italy was a little afraid of (not because America was threatening but because he was loud) had shouted at him to shut the hell up.
The noise had disturbed America's concentration. This concentration was not in any way used up in the discharge of his duties. No, it was in his eating of the contents of Italy's fridge.
In fact, America would have been upset if he'd realised that his shouting had made the Italian cry, but he was oblivious.
The phone rang again. "Wow, this phone has never stopped ringing!" America said. It was just the fourth phone call in two hours. "Vargas Pizzeria!" America yelled down the phone.
England having finally got through heaved a sigh of relief, "Alfred? Listen…"
"No! This is Vargas Pizzeria. Vargas. Pizzeria." America yelled. He turned to the prone Feliciano in the empty restaurant. "Dude thinks this is some place called Alfred's! Wow." He was oblivious that the Italian was laid on the floor. He was also oblivious that the restaurant was empty and that there was chaos outside.
"No Alfred!"
"No. Vargas!" Alfred said, slowly as if talking to a child.
"No! You damn fool! It's me, Arthur!"
"What pizza d'ya want dude? We got pepperoni… oh wait I ate the last one… margherita… you can order fries but the dude Feli here calls them something else… You'll have to wait 'til our delivery driver gets back from the last order though if you want delivery…"
"I DON'T WANT DELIVERY!" England yelled. "I don't want to order a flaming pizza!"
"Jeez… okay. Chillax, man, why d'ya ring here then?"
The phone went dead.
America held it up. "Odd. It sounded like someone I know. Do you often get crank calls, Feli?"
Feliciano didn't answer. His business was over. Nobody had come in all night. The fact that they couldn't get in because 1) the streets were gridlocked and 2) the door was locked, was neither here nor there.
America shrugged. "I wonder what's taking Romano so long?" he mused to himself and began scoffing a large tray of macaroni cheese.
Romano was seething. In his beat-up Pizza delivery van with the words 'Vargas Delivers' on the side (a misnomer if ever there was one) he was swearing he would kill the 'fat American' when he returned. The idiot Alfred had been taking orders and sending him on such tortuous routes around the city that Romano had somehow managed to cause the chaos that now afflicted the City. He sat now in his car plotting the American's demise. He had done just two deliveries in four hours. As the idiot American's promise had been that they would deliver within twenty minutes or the meal was free, and so far he had not taken any money.
He looked idly out of the window as he thought about shoving the American into the restaurant's walk-in freezer and shutting the door (ignoring his own natural passive-aggressive cowardice) and saw Prussia and Denmark riding a ridiculously small child's Barbie bicycle with handlebar streamers along the pavement. Denmark's knobbly knees sticking out at right angles as he pedaled furiously, while Prussia sat on the handlebars.
As much as Romano wanted to wind down the window and yell something obscene at him he had to admit that they were not as stupid as they looked. They were the only ones getting anywhere. He sighed and lit another cigarette.
Elsewhere…
In Buckingham Palace, the Prime Minister (still with her head in her hands) was sat at a table with Scotland who was still whizzing round and round in a swivel chair. King Malcolm sat next to him drinking a good whisky. Facing them were what they thought was the Spanish delegation. It wasn't. It was SLAPARSE - South London and Peckham Allotment Recreational Society who were now charged with averting a possible Anglo-Spanish War.
Over at England's allotment, Prussia and Denmark, having dashed out on a stolen child's bike to get more beers, were 'quietly' drinking when the Spanish delegation arrived. Gibraltar, knowing that England was as crazy as a frog on speed and getting more eccentric as the years went by, thought nothing about this. He was a little put out that they weren't meeting in the Palace as promised but assumed that they'd been diverted here - by helicopter no less - piloted by Mr Kumajiro with Mr Panda acting as tourist guide, because of the traffic problems.
"Yo! Gib! My main man!" Prussia greeted him from the tin bath as the door was flung open at the knock. "Long time no see. Where's Tony dude?"
Gibraltar wished he'd listened to the wise advice of Portugal…
To be continued…