A/N: Told from Sweden's point of view, because Sweden is bloody amazing.

The first things I noticed when I got to America's House were the red spatters all across his face, hair, and clothes and the screams of mirth coming from the backyard.

"I thought you weren't interested, Sweden," said America slyly with an unusual smirk marring his features, slinging an arm around my shoulders and leading me to the back of the house.

I stared at him. I was actually thinking how did I get here? Why is America acting like this? What's going on?, but all I did was grunt.

"Hmm."

He laughed, then suddenly turned and asked seriously, "do you want any peanuts, sir?"

Lo and behold, he offered me a peanut bag seemingly pulled from hammerspace.

...Sir? Peanuts?

I frowned.

"No th'nks."

I thought I heard something like, "understood, sir, sorry, sir," before America's voice drowned it out with, "I get my peanuts from all sorts of places, Sweden," then he winked at me.

What is going ON?

I blushed furiously at the implications, and only managed to get out a, "I don't know wh't ya mean," even though I knew perfectly well what he meant before we rounded the house.

Blood, blood everywhere.

My eyes widened, and I halted immediately, which pulled America back as well who froze and looked at me in concern.

I was fixated on the blood splotches all over the lawn though.

Not only that, but there were bunnies scampering around all over the place, fenced in by foot-high spiked steel fences. And was that... SEALAND? COVERED IN BLOOD AND PRANCING AROUND WHILE LAUGHING? WHAT IN THE...

"What's wrong, Sweden?" he queried slowly, a slight crease in his brow.

I rounded on America, my voice becoming very defensive and my eyes hardening behind my glasses as I bordered on hysterical. "Why is there blood ev'rywhere and why is Seal'nd cover'd in it 'nd why is Seal'nd ev'n here in the f'rst pl'ce?"

I felt a bit light-headed from the excessive talking and the squeamishness and I felt the need to sit down. I knew this was going to be bad when I thought I saw a Pikachu eating a hotdog with its trainer's dead body covered in desu sparkles.

America, meanwhile, looked downright insulted by my lack of enthusiasm. "You just sit and watch, Sweden," he stated, marching off to the fence and jumping it easily with his x ray vision, leaving me wobbling and queasy in the space he'd just vacated. "This is the funniest thing you'll ever witness!"

Watch I did as he began chasing an adorable brown baby bunny around, and despite all the bloody patches on the lawn, I began to get distracted by nostalgia and desu sparkles. Which, considering the situation, was really random and unbelievable but whatever let me have my moment (plus the author has no other way to connect the two).

"AHHHH!" screeched Sealand, skidding to a halt and pointing at one of the walls in the elaborate octagon of fencing, "THE FOURTH WALL HAS FALLEN!"

Meanwhile, I daydreamed about Norway getting completely covered with snow in the middle of summer (and the fallen fence proceeded to explode graphically, spewing blood and guts all over the place. Not that it really mattered; the ground was already covered in blood anyway).

Oh, how I recalled the days of old where America and I would frolic through the flowers of youth and hold hands and kiss like lovers even though he looked three at the time.

Oh, the good old days.

But WE used to chase bunnies in jolly good fun! He remembers our moments of happiness before that stupid Netherlands came!

Could it be a sign that he wants to be one again? I dare say, it could be!

I shall name the bunny he is chasing 'MowsM8,' for my newly discovered hope in the reformation of the villa that I intended to create! SWEAME! YEAH! But of course, I didn't say that out loud.

I watched in joy as the bunny pranced frantically away from the American in hot pursuit, who was smiling and laughing just like he used to as a child. His fingers grazed the fluffy tail at times, and he almost managed to catch him once, twice, thrice, FRICE.

Then I stood up and cantered unsteadily over to the fence, ready to discuss this whole SweAme concept with America as he ran past my side of the fence once more, but just as he was about to- BOOM!

Hope exploded.

No, literally, exploded.

Her guts and blood drenched my coat, face, and hair.

"H...Hope?" I stuttered hopelessly (pun intended because the author is sick minded).

America laughed like a clinically insane person before he asked me if I be "trippin' balls, yo. Fo shizzle my nizzle fo rizzle-dizzle."

Then Sealand, the blood-drenched wonder, jogged over and screamed "YOU BE TRIPPING BALLS."

Then I woke up and ran to the airplane's disgusting toilet to throw up.

I swore to never eat Spanish jalapenos before a flight to America ever again.