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Driving Lessons Chapter 91 - Gatecrash
"I don't suppose you could make me a cup of tea? The one I had earlier was rather disappointing to say the least," England said to Germany.
Germany turned to him, staring, his eyes wide at the state of Embassy ballroom floor. "A CUP OF TEA? YOU'RE ASKING ME FOR A CUP OF TEA?" He yelled. He took several deep breaths. His blood pressure monitor, his doctor had advised him to wear, beeped dangerously. "You are mad, a dangerous sociopath. I detest you. Why do you continually ruin my life? Why? What did I do to you? You beat me in two world wars. Isn't that enough?"
England looked at him and then said, "You know, if you don't have any teabags you can just say."
Germany sat down next to Austria and put his head in his hands. He honestly thought he was having a breakdown.
"Mozart's Requiem," Austria said to Germany.
"Why is nobody else wearing fancy dress?" Latvia asked Germany. "You said it was fancy dress."
"I said you should dress well. Not fancy. Oh Mein Gott!"
"Leave him alone, you bully," Russia said to Germany and hugged the small Baltic. "I missed you Latvia. You could come and live with me at England's house."
"I'm having no more Nations living with me!" England shouted and went off to find the kitchen.
"Where did that sleigh come from? Chancellor Merkel asked the most sensible-looking person in the room, who was also the most sober. This happened to be Ukraine, who was still sat atop the sleigh in royal regala. She was one who was 'driving' it. Having brought England, Charlemagne, Pierre, Denmark, Latvia and Prussia through with her.
"Don't talk to me unless you're prepared to help me get Crimea back," Ukraine told Angela Merkel.
Russia who heard his big sister talking and knew he was in for a 'telling-off', let go of Latvia and departed the room through a window. The fact that he was on the second floor meant nothing to him.
"I'll tell you what happened," Denmark said, jumping off the back of the sleigh and leering his way through the room and up to the German boss.
He and Prussia had rode in on the back of the sleigh and were still covered in snow.
"Nein! I'll tell Auntie Angela all about it!" Prussia said, shoving Denmark out of the way.
"It's like this, chick," Denmark began.
"We was down to our last tin of beans," Prussia continued.
"WE WERE!" England yelled from somewhere. "NOT WE WAS."
Prussia ignored this. "It all looked very hopeless."
"You're hopeless," Denmark said.
Prussia launched himself onto Denmark and they rolled on the floor fighting.
"I was on my way here from Riga," Latvia told Merkel, still stood in his beaver outfit. (Latvia, not Merkel). "I'd gone via Pol's portal to Romania's portal in Bucharest but he wasn't in, then to Oslo because that's where his portal came out at on a Tuesday…."
"Wait?! You were in Oslo?" Denmark asked suddenly, heaving himself off Prussia.
"Yes."
"Is Norge okay? Haven't seen him in ages…"
"He wouldn't come to the party, so then his portal took me to Fin's place…" Latvia said.
"Is he okay? Was little shitty Peter Kirkland there? I hate that kid." Denmark interrupted again.
"Yes he was. Neither wanted to come with me, they had an ABBA karoake party to go to and left Peter with Icy," Latvia answered patiently. "And then their portal took me to Mr Russia's old house in Leningrad, I mean St Petersburg. There was a party going on there but I managed to get away…"
"A party at Russia's house? No way!" Prussia yelled.
"Not a demon party again?" Ukraine interrupted this time, pulling her wolves away from the German Chancellor, who did not like dogs, or canines of any description.
"Kind of. They were having a Tupperware party."
"Pull the other one!" Prussia exclaimed.
Latvia shrugged. "And then I got the portal to Siberia and then to here. It's a long way round but what can you do?"
"Did you know there were portals all around the world?" England, now with a cup of tea, asked the Prince of Wales.
The Prince of Wales just said one of three things he normally said at such events, "Did you come far?"
"I'll say I did! We had to come all the way from Siberia! Siberia! Bloody awful place. It was snowing!" England replied and wandered off with his cup of tea - which was passable. Really, you'd think the German Embassy could at least afford decent teabags.
"Anyway then Miss Ukraine ran into us with her sleigh." Latvia continued.
"I was trying to get home. I've been stuck on the No. 9 bus from Vladivostock for two weeks," Ukraine explained and stroked one of the wolves. "Where's Vanya?" She asked.
"He dodged out of the window," Den told her.
"Pity. I needed to talk to him."
"So this isn't a fancy dress party?" Latvia asked. He was still holding his rifle.
"Nah mate," Den said. "Why didn't Esty come with us?" He asked the smallest Baltic.
"He's doing work for Mr P," Latvia replied.
"I thought so! I knew Mr Panda was behind all this! I saw those computer screens." England said, waving his mug of tea around and spilling his beverage on the carpet.
"You're a moron!" Germany said and went to fetch a mop. His party was ruined. He vowed to make England pay. A vow he made to himself every night.
"Anyway then we all decided to come to the partaaaay!" Denmark finished the diatribe.
"Bop!" Charlemagne said from Pierre's arms.
"Too right, kid," Denmark said. "Let's bop!" He said and then took Angela Merkel in his arms and attempted to dance with her. "Germans can't dance." He said finally.
"We left Monsieur le France behind in Siberia," Pierre said sadly, he was holding Charlemagne and trying to get away from Austria who was still lying on the floor and stroking his leg.
"Well every cloud has a silver lining and all that!" England said. "What do you say, Mr Vice President?"
The American Vice President didn't say anything he was still stuck in a corner, too terrified to move in case Italy re-appeared to tell him how being 'gay was great and everybody should be gay a bit'.
"I was talking to your boss the other day. My word, he's a bit crackers isn't he?" England continued talking at Mike Pence. "I didn't understand a word he said though. He does say tremendous a lot though doesn't he? Ah well, I've had some rum bosses. I'll tell you all about King John. He was hopeless. Mind you, James II was not much better," England told the American. "I say, I don't suppose you know where Germany keeps the custard creams?"
"Put some better music on, Ludwig!" Denmark yelled at Germany who was furiously scrubbing at the carpet.
"This party is rubbish." Prussia announced as if he were stood on a soapbox. "Mind you, this whole country is rubbish. It's always raining. The roads have never been updated from when everyone rode a horse and you have to have a degree in physics to understand their roundabout system. Where do you live then? Some tiny mould-infested terrace in Wrinkly Bottom?" Prussia was asking the Prince of Wales and without waiting for an answer, he ploughed on. "Hey aren't you German? I can always tell another German. Are you a plumber? We could really do with a plumber over at Artie's house. I doubt the last one will come back. Although it was funny when we gave him Ludwig's brand new BMW as payment."
"I'm not a plumber," Prince Charles replied. "I'm the Duke of Cornwall."
"That's a small county though isn't it? Isn't Yorkshire the biggest county? To be honest, I'd be a bit miffed if I was just duke of that place. Nobody knows where it is. Have you met Yorkshire? Hard bastard. You should also meet his duck." Prussia was still babbling on and the reason for this was that to keep them quiet on the sleigh, Ukraine had had to give him and Denmark sweets such as Turkish delight and because of this, both of them were hyperactive.
"Papa!" Charlemagne suddenly shouted and pointed.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked around to see who/what the child was pointing at.
England hoped it was Germany. Germany hoped it was England. Italy hoped it was Romano (he really wanted to be an uncle, or was it an aunt? He was never sure), even though Romano wasn't there. Pierre hoped it was France purely because he worried about the French Nation. Ukraine hoped it wasn't Russia, even though he wasn't there. Denmark hoped it was Austria because that would be 'wild, man'. Austria hoped that the leg he was stroking was his own (it was not). Prussia hoped it was him (it wasn't).
"Papa!" Charlemagne shouted again just to ensure everyone had the chance to look around.
They did.
The child was pointing at Mr Kumajiro who was trying to tiptoe across the room with his cigar without being seen by the child.
England skidded across the room and grabbed the bear by the collar. "YOU! You're the kid's father?" He asked and then realised how stupid he sounded.
"Yeah, course I am, moron." Mr K replied and tutted and hurried off.
"Don't be ridiculous. He's a bear and the kid's not a bear. The kid's a kid," Denmark said to England.
"He knows something!" England said, snatching Charlemagne from Pierre, who was still having his leg stroked by Austria who in turn was still lying on the floor in a daze. He looked drunk but wasn't. The Austrian told the room he 'could smell colours' and then passed out.
"Charlie old chap, who's that bear? Do you know him?" England asked the child.
"Papa," the child said.
But Mr K was already halfway up the stairs. "Bloody kid," he grumbled.
England hurried after him with the Nations following. Even Germany looked intrigued.
England pointed at Mr K. He suddenly put two and two together. "YOU! You were the one who dumped this child on my doorstep!" He yelled.
Meanwhile at England's house...
"Anyway, then George Washington said to me… oh wait, I think it might have been Alexander Hamilton… anyway, one of them said I would be the greatest Nation on earth. And do you know what?"
Romano wasn't listening. He was instead on his mobile phone telling someone that he was going to join them in their quest to get revenge on England. "He will pay for what he's done. He stole my van. He has no regard for other people's property. I don't care about Germany. He's a potato bastard. You will?" He said to the person on the other end of the phone. "We don't need dragons," he added. "Oh okay if you say so. Arrivederci, cara! Oh not cara*, okay…" he hung up and glared at America. "Shouldn't you get a job?" He asked.
(* Cara means darling)
"Job!" America yelled and ran out of the door. He then ran back in, took Romano's keys from him, ran back out and drove away in Romano's pizza delivery van.
Romano was not happy and slammed out of the house. He stopped when he noticed the furniture removal van outside.
"Are you here to move Señor Kirkland?" He asked the removal men. "He will not escape me!"
"No we're here to move a…" here the burly removal man who was built like an articulated lorry, squinted at his clipboard, "Mr and Mrs George King."
"Oh right and who's moving in?" Romano asked.
"Apparently that's classified," the man said shrugging. "Nobody tells us anything."
"I'm going to Skypebooktime Canada," England announced to the room.
"Not here you're not. Now get out of my Embassy," Germany roared.
Charlemagne burst into tears.
"Bully!" England gasped. "I wouldn't want to stay here anyway," he said as he comforted the child. "You don't have any coasters!"
"GET OUT!" Germany yelled, utterly enraged.
"Or custard creams," England added.
"GET OUT!" Germany repeated, no less angry.
"Or Yorkshire teabags," England said as he was 'helped' towards the door.
Behind him Mr K gave a sinister Bond villain laugh.
Later...
"Well this is perfectly fine," England said sat on a Tube with Den, Pru, Pierre, Charlemagne and eight wolves.
Meanwhile America was stood outside Specsavers in the middle of what used to be Penge High Street staring plaintively through the window. He was late for work. Twelve hours late in fact. He sighed, gave up and passed a police cordon. The Police were still trying to find the perpetrators (Napoleon, England, France and Russia) responsible for the devastation. He stopped to chat, finding that the English Police were a totally different breed to US Police.
"Yo!" He said.
When asked if he knew anything of what went on. He told them that 'sure, Artie, Dude Den, Dude Pru and Fat Russkie were now in a wardrobe', but he 'didn't know where Napoleon was'. He then headed home forlornly.
At England's house…
"You owe me one thousand pounds in ransom, tea bastard," Romano told England as soon as he walked through the door.
"Ransom? Where's the hostage?" England asked.
"Dammit."
England was weary beyond belief. He had had to negotiate his way through central London with Prussia and Denmark and a pack of wolves. All the growling, chewing and jumping up at people… who'd have thought Prussia and Denmark could get so excitable?.
Pierre, his Valium having worn off, had been in charge of the wolves holding their harnesses and they'd sensed a vulnerable soul and behaved. However, one of the wolves had growled at Prussia every time he had spoken. Which was a lot.
It wasn't the wolves who had got them kicked off the Jubilee Line but Gilbert. The Prussian's propensity for arguing had not endeared him to the ticket inspector, who with his liking for hats, snow and wolves (even though he'd never seen one outside of a David Attenborough programme) had a 10x grandparent who was Russian and therefore the poor man had an innate hatred of Prussians.
"We don't have tickets," Prussia had said, oddly proud of the fact.
"Then you'll have to get off," the ticket inspector said.
One of the wolves howled.
"I'll pay," England said and then turned to Pierre, "Do you have any money old chap?"
"Non monsieur."
"I've got a cinema ticket stub for Frozen 2 and a lemon chewit," Denmark offered.
"You'll have to get off at the next station," the ticket inspector said.
"I'm so sorry. If you let me get home then I'll send the money on later," England said.
"Do you know who I am?" Prussia asked.
"No and I don't care," the ticket inspector said.
Prussia squared up to him, "I fought Napoleon and…"
"Hitler," Denmark finished for him.
"No I didn't. I put laxatives in his tea once though. That was awesome."
"I thought you said…"
"That wasn't my fault. How was I to know that Panzer tank regiment would drive straight off that cliff?"
"Oh yeah… Artie said you were the Allies' best asset in the German Army," Denmark said almost offhandedly.
"If you just let us get off at Balham and then…" England began.
"Kesese! Balham! What a stupid name!" Prussia yelled.
They were thrown off at the next stop.
It was then that one of them produced Austria's gold credit card and using an ATM they withdrew £200, moaning that it was at the limit ("Honestly, Austria can't half spend money. Disgusting," England said when he saw the advice slip telling him there were no more funds and completely ignoring the fact that he and other Nations had been cheerfully using the credit card for weeks).
They had then caught the night bus (which Denmark was sure would contain witches and wizards) and eventually, with a sleeping Charlemagne strapped to the back of one of the wolves, staggered into Trafalgar Gardens, past Mrs Croggins' house who glared at them through the curtains and pointing at their bin (they assumed the next day was 'bin day' - a day that induced anxiety in England every week as he was never sure if it was a Monday or what day it would fall on if Monday was a Bank Holiday).
When they eventually staggered into the house, England was accosted by Romano.
England ignored him and went to bed. Clearly, if Romano was The Worst Kidnapper in History it could not be his fault.
The only Good Thing was that France was still stuck in Siberia. Perhaps things were looking up after all?
No they weren't…
Next Chapters…
England's new dastardly plan to finally teach France to drive without actually driving.
Denmark and Prussia's new 'business'
The new neighbours find out when Bin Day is