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Driving Lessons Chapter 93 - Why Do You Only Call Me When You're High?
England wondered how on earth Belarus knew when bin day was. He was going to ask but instead decided to answer her question first. "I've been teaching France to drive in a motorbike." He said.
"You're obsessed with each other. You're weird" she replied.
"Why are you driving a hearse? Er… dear?" He asked.
"Why not?"
"Well why not indeed. How come you know when bin day is?" He asked finally as it appeared she was going nowhere. He noticed the whole street had cleared and everything had gone quiet. Den and Pru had stopped bouncing on the trampoline/pogo stick and cleared off into the house along with Charlemagne. France had 'skedaddled'.
"I know everything Arthur. Everything." She emphasised this last word by poking him roughly in the chest.
"Well I'd better be getting on…"
"You don't look busy," she said.
"I have erm to go to wash my hair."
But Henry VI suddenly appeared next to him.
"Oh King Henry!"
"Stop trying to get out of talking to me, Arthur, by pretending you have a dead king," Belarus said.
"Fancy seeing you here," England said, trying to ignore Belarus' glare.
From the upstairs window Russia was hiding behind the curtains along with Prussia. "I wish Frederick Barbarossa was here," Prussia whispered to Russia.
Russia shook his head. "My sestra would crush him like a grape."
"Man! He was the great Frederick!"
"He died falling into a river," Russia said. "Why are you hiding?"
"I'm not. Well I am. But only because he is," Prussia nodded at Denmark - who was hiding under the bed.
Denmark nodded. "She scares me. I think she will kill us all. Last time I saw her she gave me a wedgie."
Russia nodded, "I think so too. She will destroy all of you. Then I and Charlemagne will rule Western Europe. I will make Downton Abbey compulsory viewing and there will be no more wars."
Whether world peace would achieved because Downton Abbey was going to be viewed by all or because Russia would be in charge, Russia himself was not exactly clear.
"I'm glad you're back, King Henry," England said to Henry. "Where have you been, old chap?" He turned to Belarus. "I really have to talk to my dead boss here."
"You will rue the day you spurned me, Arthur!" She called and drove away.
"I rue a lot of things. I'm rueing all the time actually," England said to Henry. "Anyway I have to get these motorbike handlebars sorted so I can take France out again driving." He added, ruefully.
"Arthur, I have to tell you something!" King Henry said.
"I wonder if I have any WD40?" England mused. "France!" He shouted.
France was hiding. In the closet. Pierre was trying to lure him out. "Monsieur Le France, I promise you your pride has not been affected in the least," he said (obviously in French).
"Damn that frog!" England said.
"Arthur. Mr Germany has your sword!" King Henry told him.
"My sword? You mean… Excalibur!?" England drew himself up to his full height.
"Has she gone?" Denmark asked England, having snuck back downstairs and going onto the driveway. "Did she give you a wedgie?"
"Of course not!"
"You do look weird," Prussia told him, joining Denmark.
"He always looks weird," Denmark said.
"Where's the child?" England asked them.
"Bed. Having his nap. Uncle Ivan is watching him."
"Good. Because I need a plan. And it doesn't involve babies or Russians."
"No baby? No Russian?" Prussia's eyes lit up. "What does it involve?"
"A case of burglary!" England replied.
"Bloody brilliant!"
"Hell yeah! We're up for that! But we need to be back before Carl dude has his bath!"
"Carl dude?"
"Charlemagne," Denmark said.
"Right. I'm not sure if I'll need you. Actually yes I might. You could be my decoys."
"You always need us to burgle. We're good burglars." Prussia said.
"Ja, we once broke into Austria's house and stole his underwear and swapped it for Alfred's. Good times…"
"Right." England did not think this would be called 'good times' in his books.
"And that time we went to Olaf the Quiet's Stag Party and took a basket of monkeys with us?"
"You two are like a basket of monkeys!" England said. He was regretting this.
"And that time we went partying with Alfred and we left him on that cross-channel ferry to Calais?"
"I don't think we should have left him dressed as Tinkerbell though. That was a bit cruel," Denmark said.
"Oh it was you was it?" England shouted. "I had to bail him out of that. Oh I wonder where Tinks is?" England said, suddenly distracted.
"Tinks isn't real," Prussia scoffed.
"Fairies are real!" Denmark said. "We've had this conversation before and they are real!"
"Not."
"Are."
They jumped on one another and began fighting.
"I heard that she was on honeymoon with General Winter," King Henry said to England.
"No! That's terrible." England thought about this and then said, "Ah well. That's her fault. She fell in with a bad lot."
"Do you mean Miss Hungary?" King Henry asked.
"Yes but shush, or she'll turn up and beat us both up. I have to go away and have a cup of tea and think about how I'm going to burgle Germany."
"Kesese!" Prussia laughed from within his fight.
"Shut up you imbecile."
England found himself some hours later stood outside the German Embassy and if we were to recount every single remarkable and not so remarkable event that got him to this point in time then this story would go on for a great many more chapters. It was enough that he was there. And high. Very very high. On weed.
For a moment we will go in back in time and explain how this happened:
Whilst England sat at his kitchen table, a downloaded map of the German Embassy in front of him and a cup of tea alongside a plate of custard creams, Den and Gilbert were also making plans and these plans were going to change England's plans.
Den ambled into the shed to find his awesome friend, Gilbert, sitting on one of the garden chairs and staring down at a battered patio table. On closer inspection, a little clear baggie containing something green was lying in the centre of the patio table.
For now both of them had totally forgotten both the pogo stick and the trampoline and Denmark was no longer interested in the new next door neighbours.
"What's that, dude?" Den asked.
Pru looked up. "Weed, dude," he said wisely.
"Oh right, yeah," Den said quickly, trying to sound as if he'd known that all along. In truth, he'd thought it might be one of England's weird tea bags - Arthur coped with stress by buying herbal teas, camomile and mint and so forth, and never drinking them. Over the past few months, he'd accumulated quite a collection. "But where'd you get it, man?"
"My main dude, Spain," Prussia said.
"I thought I was your main dude!" Den said, outraged.
"Well, yeah," Prussia amended. "But Tony-dude is a dude as well. Maybe not the main dude but he's definitely a dude… anyway, he's stoned all the time, man."
"Right," Den said, even though he hadn't known this. "Yeah. Cool."
"And this fell off him," Prussia said, gesturing to the baggie. "He was all 'adios, amigo!' and when he waved it fell out of his back pocket. I tried to tell him but he'd already seen Romano and buggered off."
"He does that," Den agreed.
"So now we've got this," Prussia concluded. "Only question is, what do we do with it?"
Den considered this for an inordinately long time. Despite his boasts of wild parties and substance abuse, he'd never actually tried weed - it was illegal in his country, and he liked beer enough that it had never occurred to him to get high in other ways. "I think you're supposed to smoke it, man."
"Well yeah, I knew that," Prussia said, annoyed. "I just don't know if what's in here is too much for a joint… it looks like a lot, dude. What if we get so high we see General Winter?"
"Hahaha, awesome!" Den yelled.
Prussia shuddered, but he high-fived Den anyway, his enjoyment of the word 'awesome' winning out over his fear. "Maybe we should ask Toni-dude, it is his weed even though he's probably already forgotten about it."
Den wasn't happy about this idea, though he didn't want to say the reason why - that he felt a bit jealous whenever Pru hung about with his other 'dudes', Spain and France and America. Pru was Den's only real friend, and he always felt a bit left out when the others showed up.
But before he could try to put Pru off the idea, the shed door opened and France sashayed in. "Bonjour mes oignons," he purred. France seemed to have gotten over his terrible journey in England's sidecar which was now lying forgotten on the driveway. He also seemed to have gotten over his fear of Belarus. He'd checked she'd gone before he'd emerged from the closet.
"Dude Carl!" Den shouted, cheering up at the sight of Charlemagne in his baby backpack, peeking out over France's shoulder. Charlemagne giggled and pointed at him.
Meanwhile, Prussia was frowning at France. "Wait, did you just call us your onions—"
"Zat is not important," France insisted, lifting Charlemagne out of the backpack and depositing him in Den's arms. Den sat the baby on his lap and felt that all was good and right with the world. The baby may be Canada's kid, but Den could still raise him to be a Viking warrior. "I come with news. Mathieu is giving myself and Angleterre custody of Charlemagne, so zere will be social workers coming over to make sure zat zee house is an appropriate environment for a baby."
Prussia laughed, loudly and suddenly. "Right, that'll be a ride," he said. "We'll be lucky if they don't drag us all out of here in little white coats, never mind giving us custody of a child."
Den's lip wobbled. Prussia quickly backtracked. "Of course it might happen," he said. "If they don't look in the shed… and Russia is asleep the whole time and doesn't say anything in his sleep… and Scotland isn't here… and England takes his meds… and Alfie doesn't dress as Spiderwoman or something… and the social worker is madder than King Ludwig II."
"We're doomed!" France wailed, and seeing there were no chairs free, collapsed to the floor rather dramatically (though not without ensuring he'd land on something soft, Den noticed.)
"Probably," Prussia agreed.
There was a brief silence as all three nations and the half-nation child pondered their fates. Then Prussia said, brightly, "Hey Francey-pants, we've got weed. Do you want some?"
France leapt gracefully to his feet. "Ah, ze day is not lost! I will locate mon brownie recipe." He swept out of the shed, his fandango pink coat billowing behind him.
Den leaned across the table to whisper to Gil, even though France had gone. "What's he doing, man?"
"Dunno, man," Gil said equally quietly. (Which was still not very quiet.)
Soon after, America burst in. "Dudes! France just told me to get a brownie tray and a big spoon. I don't know what that means. It's not a weird sex thing, is it? Because I've still not recovered from the last time he tried to have a talk with me man-to-man."
Prussia asked him, "Where have you been?"
"Dance Revolution! Down at the Arcade at the shopping centre. I needed to keep my high score of 115,000 points going!" America yelled.
Den decided to forget most of these words as soon as he heard them. "We've got weed." He held up the baggie for America to inspect.
America leaned in very close, so that his nose was practically touching the bag, in order to inspect it. "Dude," he said reverently. Then, "I bet Francy is going to make weed brownies."
"What are those, man?" Prussia asked.
"Brownies that have weed in them." America seemed like he was enjoying this. He was one of the youngest nations, and didn't get many chances to appear knowledgeable. "You end up being high a lot longer than if you smoked a joint. Like, for hours." He widened his eyes so much it was a bit alarming. "I ate a hard candy that had been spiked with weed once and I thought my feet were made of rubber."
"Awesome!" Prussia yelled. The Awesome Trio, and Charlemagne, all high-fived each other.
"You gotta be careful, though," America said sagely. "Artie-dude has a zero tolerance policy for drugs."
"Artie-dude has a zero tolerance policy for fun," Prussia pointed out. Charlemagne burped, which may or may not have indicated agreement.
"Yeah, but he's really mental about this stuff. His eyebrows go all funny and he starts muttering to himself if you even mention drugs around him. Something about Captain Hook… I dunno, man, I think that's all a bit weird, Europeans and all that… no offence… anyway, one time I took him to a Nirvana concert and someone offered him a tab of LSD and I thought he was going to kill the guy. Had to apologise to my buddy Kurt after…"
Sensing that this would be one of America's never-ending stories, Prussia spoke up. "England won't find out," he insisted. "That crazy old man barely knows where his own socks are, never mind what pot looks like. He'll be too busy muttering about custard creams."
"And France is putting the weed in brownies, so that means you can't see it anymore which means it doesn't exist," Den said. This was how the world worked, or at least should work, according to him.
"That as well," Prussia agreed.
America shrugged. "Well, if you're sure." He then opened the shed door and ambled off, whistling the Game of Thrones theme tune.
"This will be great!"
"Can you imagine? Doing a burglarering while high?" Prussia asked Denmark, his eyes very wide.
"Ja!"
And they high-fived again.
What happened next was a bit of a whirl. A slow-motion whirl.
France made his 'brownies' to a well-known recipe. A recipe that got him kicked out of 'Great British Bake-off'. The same Bake-off that England had failed to get on because he'd failed the psychological profile test.
In total 12 brownies came out of the oven. Before anyone could stop him, although no-one would have dared stop him as he was so big, Russia ate 6 and ambled off (seemingly unaffected) for a 'nap' holding Charlemagne and singing a Russian peasant song. France ate one, Alfred ate two and was found later to be lying on his bedroom floor gazing at his carpet and muttering about how the swirls represented all the universe. Prussia and Denmark ate one each. Turkmenistan forego any. England ate the last one before anyone could stop him.
"Hmmm… nice cake, Francis. Goes down well with a cup of Earl Grey."
They waited for him to explode with rage. But it's difficult to explode with rage when you're high.
So very very high.
England found then that his plan to 'burglarerer' Germany's place made perfect sense.
And so after driving his motorbike as fast as he could (they went approximately six miles per hour) with Prussia and Denmark in the sidecar they arrived at the Embassy and stood on the back kitchen doorstep ringing the bell. This seemed to make sense to them. (France had stayed at home to contemplate the meaning of life, even though he would have really liked to burglarise Germany.)
They waited for what seemed days for the door to open and eventually it did (it took approximately five minutes) and Italy answered and stepped back in shock.
"You're high!" He said.
"Hi!" England said. "Or ciao!" He said, which was even more horrifying. He pushed Italy aside and went in.
"Yo!" Den said and followed England.
Prussia just grinned at Italy. "We've come to burglarise," he said and followed the other two. He then said to Italy. "Woah slow down and stop moving for a minute!"
"I didn't move," Italy said, utterly confused.
This was going to get interesting…