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Driving Lessons Chapter 45 - Apocalypse Please
In a dark dismal cell in Mr Kumajiro's evil lair, 50 metres beneath the River Thames. Well actually built in the River Thames, not underneath it, because then they'd be underground… (Author's note)
"So there isn't going to be any birthday cake?" Den asked. He sounded sad.
"No! For the last time. No! This isn't a birthday party. It isn't anyone's birthday. Today is not, for the last bloody time, anybody's birthday," England yelled.
Den sighed.
"Yer know, you're a right misery guts," Prussia said and sat down next to Den.
"But Artie dude. You're wrong!" Alfred said.
England ignored him. He really couldn't be bothered to talk to someone wearing a Beefeater costume. (Alfred, not Arthur.)
"Ja!" Prussia yelled. "Wait what? He is?"
"Yeah man! It's always someone's birthday!"
"I bet it's fat Russkie's. It feels like it. Dark, gloomy, the end of the world…" Prussia shivered.
"IT IS NOT RUSSIA'S BIRTHDAY!" England yelled. He really was at the end of his tether. Did they not understand that they didn't have long before Armacopalypse or whatever it was America called it?
"Wow. I bet you're fun at birthday parties. I'm not inviting you to my next one eh, Den?"
Den shook his head. He still looked upset that there would be no cake.
"Artie wouldn't go anyway. He doesn't like clowns. They scare him," America confided.
"No they don't." England said.
America nodded at Pru and Den confidingly. Pru raised an eyebrow.
Den said loudly, "So does Austria! Can you remember when we dressed as clowns that time and laid in wait in his bathroom? Or that time when we dressed as clowns and fought him at the Schleswig War!"
"I fought you at the Schleswig War!" Pru said.
"Did you?" Den said, looking confused.
"I wasn't there," England said, relieved.
"Anyway, once we dressed as clowns and… or was it just me? It could have been just me…" Den said and then stopped as he tried to think.
"Well back to Reality FM," England said.
"Is that a real radio station?" America asked with no trace of irony.
England put his head in his hands. "We need someone to get us out of here," he said. "What's happened to your superstrength?" He asked America.
"Well I don't think I'm over that flu," America said.
"You never had flu! You were trying to get out of going home! You should all go home!"
"Ja! And we will once we get out of this place! This is crap. No beer!" Pru said.
"Oh yes, go and leave me to sort out your bloody mess," England suddenly said and paced up and down, thinking hard, not realising that he'd just contradicted himself. The others looked at each other and then shrugged.
"Maybe Francy-pants will rescue us?" Den said hopefully.
"Let's hope he's wearing pantalons," Prussia added. Denmark looked worried at this.
England shuddered. He doubted France had ever rescued anyone. Ever.
And then the door opened and two big men stomped in, without a word grabbed Pru and Den and then stomped out.
"Yo! Where are you taking my dudes?" America yelled as the door slammed in his face.
England felt actually quite relieved that those idiots had gone. He was hoping for some peace and quiet so he could think.
But America had other ideas. With a mouth as big as Alabama, or probably Montana (or probably a State that England could actually name), America yelled, "Bring my dudes back, dude!"
"Will you shut your mouth, Alfred? While they're gone we might actually make up a plan to get out of here."
"Do you think they're being tortured?" America asked.
England really hoped so, but didn't say that. After all, there was only so much luck he could have. Today was not really turning into his day.
"You will tell me everything I need to know," Mr Kumajiro said in a very sinister voice.
"Ja okay!" Den said happily.
"Nein! I will tell you nothing! I was the top interrogator for the Gestapo so you will get nothing out of me," Pru said.
"No he wasn't!" Den scoffed. "He used to make the tea."
"I was not the tea lady! That's a lie!"
"They used to make you go down to the bakery and buy buns. Germany told me."
"He's lying!" Pru almost screeched.
Mr Kumajiro rubbed his temples. This was too much.
If Pru and Den hadn't been tied to chairs they would have been fighting. Despite being 'best buds' forever or something, they fought constantly - usually over who had the best hair, whose turn it was to wear the 'good shoes' (they shared a pair which was sad in itself) and who was the best drinker, amongst others.
"I need the key to that allotment shed!" Mr Kumajiro yelled.
They shut up. "We don't have it. England's got it." They both said finally.
"He is an idiot." Mr Kumajiro didn't want to get into the intricacies of why on earth these two fools were living in a shed. Or why England, who Mr Kumajiro thought was a moron, albeit one of the cleverer Nations had allowed these two imbeciles to live there. Perhaps an Englishman's shed wasn't as sacred as the Allotment Society had led him to believe? He shivered, despite being used to the cold, the shady people from SLAPARSE with their cloaks, spades and talk of begonias and tomatoes gave him the shivers. He was actually a little worried what they would do if they found out that he couldn't get hold of the key. It was vital to their plans.
"Yeah well he's a meanie. He wouldn't let us live in his precious Bentley." Den said.
Mr K could hardly blame England for that. He was seriously thinking about fumigating the place after Pru and Den had been sent back to their cell.
"What do you want it for anyway? Have you lost the key to your igloo?" Pru asked. "Kesese!" He would have high-fived Den but obviously they were tied up. Which was a shame in his eyes. He was confident that any moment his bruder would show up and sort all this out. Unless he was doing his paperwork.
Mr K was about to say something when a phone playing Shania Twain's 'Main I Feel Like a Woman' interrupted the proceedings.
Den sang along.
Pru shook his head.
Mr K took a phone out of his shorts pocket and answered, "Yes? Listen, I'm in the middle of something…" Mr K could be heard saying. He turned away and began whispering.
"Trouble at the North Pole?" Pru asked.
"Yeah Santa needs his polar bear back," Den said.
"That's reindeer," Pru said.
"I should know I lived with Finland and he's Santa," Den told him.
"Don't be daft, it's reindeer. Like Rudolf and all them others."
They began arguing about reindeer and the names of Santa's reindeer.
"Comet, Vomit, Dasher, Flasher, Prancer, Dancer, Poser..." Pru was saying.
"You're wrong!" Den sounded horrified.
Mr K turned round. "Will you two shut up?" He yelled. How on earth had England put up with them? "Listen I can't talk now. I know I missed our last badminton match. You can just re-book the court, can't you?" Mr K said into the phone.
"Nefarious," Pru said finally.
"What?" Den asked.
"Nefarious polar bear," Pru said and nodded at Mr K.
"I thought you said 'no fairies'," Den said.
"Why would I say 'no fairies'?"
Den shrugged. He looked bored.
"Yes, I will get this information. We need that key, but I'm afraid that these imbeciles are useless," Mr K said into the phone.
"He means you," Pru said, nodding at Mr K and then looking over at Den, who was also tied up.
Den frowned. "He said 'imbeciles' so I think he means me as well," Den said, weirdly.
"That made no sense."
"You make no sense," Den replied and then sulked.
"Fairies!" England said suddenly.
"I don't think that's fair," America said slowly. He had been walking up and down trying to think of a way out.
"No, I mean Tinkerbell can help us."
"I don't think she's real, dude. I think you have to face facts and realise that she's a symptom of your drinking problems."
England stared at him, "Where did you come up with rubbish like that?"
"Australia said something about it."
"You mean Austria?"
"Yes, him as well."
"You mean they both said that?" England doubted that Australia would say anything about England's drinking. He hadn't seen the ultra laid back Australian in ages.
"We all say that, dude."
England ignored him. "I'm going to summon a fairy," he said.
"That's no way to talk about Austria!"
England turned to him, "Do you have any chalk?"
"I have some crayon," America said and handed it to him.
England nodded, "Draw a pentagram on the floor," he said indicating with his handcuffed hands towards the floor.
"A what?"
England was prepared for this. He doubted sometimes if America had ever gone to school. "A five-sided star. Pent means five."
America looked skeptical but bent down anyway, shoving his arse in England's face.
"No, five pointed. That's a pentagon." England said as patiently as he could.
"That's not what you said."
"Isn't it?" England wondered if he was going mad. (He was.)
America sighed heavily as if this was all too much. "Won't this do? Why can't you do it anyway?"
England wordlessly showed him his handcuffed hands.
"Ah yeah." America sighed again as if he'd been asked to do something very very arduous. He tried again.
"That's a triangle with another triangle," England said impatiently.
"Yer know. Why don't you just call her, text her? These fairy chicks are a bit sensitive. They don't like just being summoned," America said, as if he knew.
England looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He doubted if America knew anything about girls at all, certainly not fairies. Certainly not fairies who were apt to be bad-tempered. They never put that in the Disney movies. "She might be a little… short."
"Yeah well she's a fairy isn't she? Isn't she supposed to be short?"
England sighed again. "You know that's not what I mean. And besides, I thought you didn't believe in fairies!"
"I'm not falling for that again. I know she won't fade away and die. I'm not a little kid anymore, Artie," Alfred said, but his lip trembled a little. He'd gone suddenly from not believing in fairies to worrying about their demise.
"We don't have time for this," England said.
America nodded as his phone began playing 'Hail to the Chief', he checked it and then ignored it.
"Who was that?"
"Oh someone who probably thought I was a pizza delivery guy."
"You were a pizza delivery guy!"
"No," America explained laboriously as if talking to a two-year old, while shaking his head, "I was someone who passed on information to the pizza delivery guy. Get with the plan, Artie."
"Never mind all that, draw a star."
America sighed again and got down on his hands and knees and drew a very rudimentary star on the floor in green crayon. He wrote 'star' next to it.
England walked around it three times and then stood in the middle. "You'll have to chant with me."
"I'm not doing that. I honestly think this is bullshit."
"I taught you not to swear, Alfred. And get that gum out of your mouth."
"Jeez…Twinkle twinkle…"
"It's Tinkerbell… oh for God's sake! In the name of King Henry's trousers…"
"Yes?" King Henry suddenly appeared next to him.
"Ah! King Henry! You could help us!"
"I don't know if I can. I'm feeling a bit depressed about my job prospects," the dead King said.
America went to pat him on the shoulder but his hand went straight through, "I know how you feel, dude."
"No you don't, Alfred, anyway, shut up," England said. He turned to Henry, "Could you go back to my house and ask Tinkerbell to…"
"Do you have bus fare?" the King asked.
"Bus fare? You're a bloody ghost!" England exclaimed.
"Yeah, they won't see you, idiot!" America said scoffing. "So you don't need to pay!"
"You could just appear there, can't you?" England continued.
"Well I could but it's not very polite, is it?" the King said.
England felt like banging his head against a wall.
"Dude's right, dude. I mean we all know that you don't like people just barging into the kitchen."
England finally snapped, "Will you all just shut up!? This is getting us nowhere! The President of Russia under Miss Belarus…" (he ignored America's childish sniggering) "…is going to destroy us all if we don't find Russia by midnight. And for some reason that psychopathic polar bear has engineered this whole thing or something… Mr Kumajiro wants a nuclear war!" England said finally.
"Yeah, global warming dude," America said.
"Global warming! By George, Alfred, you're right!" England said and kissed Alfred on the forehead.
"I will go and find this fairy person but it really worries me…" King Henry said. "And I really hope that she doesn't think I'm being too forward."
"I'm asking you to bring her here. Not bloody take her on a date!"
King Henry sighed and disappeared.
"Bleurgh! Why'd you kiss me, man? I ain't Francy!" America said, rubbing his forehead. He was quite pleased he was right though.
"Global warming! Of course! You're right. Mr Kumajiro wants to stop global warming. He's always going on protest marches."
"So?"
"So… don't you see?"
"Nah."
"A nuclear war will bring about a nuclear winter."
"Will it?"
"Yes! But what on earth do the Allotment Society have to do with this? Why are they behind it all? And I still don't know why they want my shed key."
"I reckon it hides some massive doomsday machine," America said.
"Don't be ridiculous, Alfred. You watch too many silly movies."
America nodded sagely, "Honestly, the baddie always has some underground lair and then some plan to finish off the good guys, he always tells them first though and then he ties them up on the end of a long rope and leaves them to be fed to the sharks."
"I'm going to stop you watching those James Bond movies. I don't think they're a good influence," England said.
Alfred ignored him but began singing various James Bond themes. This would not have been so bad if he could hold a tune. As it was he couldn't hold a tune in a bucket. He was also getting the lyrics wrong.
"Piefall!" Alfred suddenly sang. "This is the end, hold your pants and count to ten!"
"Who taught you that?"
"Sealand. Dude's odd but he knows his tunes."
England doubted that. But before he could say anything else, King Henry reappeared right next to him with a very angry, pissed-off tiny fairy.
Tinkerbell buzzed around Arthur's head like a very aggressive wasp.
"Tinks! You know I love you. I only kissed Alfie because he came up with something!" England said. "Oh you didn't actually see anything…"
"I'm not gay!" America said quickly.
England held up a hand to shut him up. He cocked his head to listen. "But that's outrageous!" he said finally. "But Tinks! You can't just say you won't work for me! I was only going to ask you to go get my wand or use some magic and get me out of these cuffs."
America laughed, "Dude! Why didn't you say?" and promptly used his 'super-strength' and broke the cuffs in half.
England glared at him.
"Why won't the little dude work for you? I mean I don't blame her an' all that…I bet she was on minimum wage."
England looked upset, "She says she's found another employer."
Alfred nodded.
"Apparently, they've offered her 'dental' and she's now in a union!"
Alfred put a commiserating hand on England's shoulder. "Dude, that's rough. But to be honest, it was coming."
England looked as if he were going to cry, "Tinks, can you at least get us out? No? Well, bring my wand? Really? Well I call that rude! And Captain Hook is not that bad. I did have a word with him about that sexual harrassment claim you brought against him. Your union said what?"
America, who thought Captain Hook was really just England's dark drunk subconscious (although he wouldn't call it that as he didn't use words like 'subconscious') just shook his head.
"She just hit me with her wand!" England said to America.
"Man! If you're going to get beaten up by a fairy…" America muttered, leaning against the wall of the cell.
"She's gone… I can't believe this…" England said slowly.
"I'll help you, Arthur. You can rely on me," King Henry said.
"Really? Could you go back to my house and get my wand? It's in the chest under my bed, under the cloak. Ignore the wizards hat and the book and the sword."
Alfred shook his head, "What a load of rubbish. You should give that stuff to charity, Artie. It's all mad."
"Wand? What does it look like?" King Henry asked.
"Like a bloody wand! Like a big stick! In the name of King George!"
Henry looked upset, as he always did when Arthur mentioned other Kings.
"You're not being very nice to the dude. It's not his fault he's stupid. I expect it's having all those wives," America said confidently.
"That was Henry the Eighth," England said.
"There were more Henrys after me?" Henry asked, his eyes brightening.
"Yeah, they were all mad as well," Alfred said gloomily.
England gave the American a dead arm. "Shut up," he hissed.
But Henry had already gone.
"Dead dude is useless though, Artie. I doubt he can help," Alfred said.
"Yes well that may be, but we need help, Alfred. Otherwise we will never get out of here…"
At that moment, the door was flung open and their 'hero' appeared.
"Bonjour! Did you miss me?"
"Bloody hell! Get some pants on!" England yelled.
"Jeez…" America muttered.
Behind France were drunk unconscious guards.
"How...?"
"Wine, mon chers!" France said in some kind of explanation.
It was best not to ask any more, England thought. He'd made that mistake too many times in both the Wars he'd been allied with France.
At that moment, King Henry reappeared, covered his eyes when he saw France and handed England his wand. "It was on the kitchen table."
"Really? That's not where I left it," England asked. They stepped out of the cell. He waved his wand at France's nether regions, "Hubble bubble clothe this tart, make him look a little bit smart." He hoped this spell would work - it had been essential when they'd shared a trench in the first World War.
"That's lame, dude," America said but was agog when France's nether regions were indeed clothed.
They could have blamed England's spell for this. But England, giving his wand a suspicious look, couldn't remember ever magicking up pink lurex shorts before.
"Mon dieu!" France said looking down at himself.
They strolled out past the prone guards.
"Ah well… I suppose that spell kinda worked okay," America said, strolling off. "At least I didn't turn purple this time. That was embarrassing," he mumbled. "Now let's kick ass!"
England, France and King Henry looked at each other. None of them wanted to tell America that he now had a very long, very furry tail hanging out of the backside of his trousers.
To be continued...