A/N: Let's make a little game out of this chapter: Spot all the references/quotes. I'll post them in the next chapter.

"Denmark." Iceland says, inwardly sighing. He knew what he was about to say would break the spiky-haired nation's heart, but what else could he do?

"Hey, Ice!" Denmark chirps, turning towards him in his near-empty living room. "Whatcha want?"

"I'm," mumbles the nation, "I'm..."

"You're pregnant?"

"Wha- NO! I'm cheating on you!"

…

"W-with who?"

"Finland. Not only that, but..."

Denmark gasps. "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."

"I'm seme to him."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"Hello, Denmark! Hello...Iceland."

Finland had entered the room, just barely stressing Iceland's name. Denmark blew a gasket.

"You PIKACHU! What have you done, seducing my precious?"

"Please guys, I'm only an elected official here, I can't make decisions by myself!"

Finland just stares at Iceland for a moment. Then, in a way more devilish way than anyone had ever estimated possible, he SMIRKS.

"Finally figured it out, huh, Denmark? Though you're not really one to talk, seeing as-"

"NO! DON'T-"

"YOU ASKED ME IF I FEARED DEATH!"

Finland raises an eyebrow. "My, Denny, getting a little hypocritical, are we?"

"It's not what you think!"

"Yes, it is! And not only that, but Iceland has a demon butler!" he states smugly.

There was a sudden pause. Then, "He...has... a...DEMON BUTLER?"

"Yeah, his name is Stephano!"

"Don't forget me, I'm still here!" Iceland pipes up. They stare at him. He was about to say something in his defence when, right on cue, Bruce Wayne walks in.

"ahsarsagshgjkgjshfajgagfj," he says. The nations glance at each other.

"What's he saying?" Denmark asks.

"Man, I have no idea."

Bruce Wayne gave one final "Arghgrhimbatmanargharghjag" Before disappearing in a puff of surprised looking blue whales and bowls of petunias.

There was an awkward silence. A frog died.

"Boop superjuice," Iceland says.

Denmark and Finland looks at Iceland. Iceland looks at Denmark and Finland.

"You did not just do that."

"You totally didn't do that."

Iceland decides to put his 'Confused' face on.

"What do you mean?"

Denmark puts his 'Exasperated' face on.

"That. You just said it."

"Said what?" Finland asks.

"YOU said the word now!" Denmark exclaims. Finland turns to Iceland.

"What did I do?"

"Said the word, apparently," Iceland replies.

"YOU SAID IT AGAIN!" Denmark shrieks. He collapses onto the floor in a display of great sportsmanship and attitude. And also fireworks. "AARGGHH! NOW I SAID IT! AARRGGHH I SAID IT AGAIN! I SAID IT AGAIN!"

Denmark continues shrieking and writhing on the ground as Finland and Iceland look at each other. There seemed to be a lot of looking at each other in this chapter.

"I think he snapped," Iceland whispers.

"Let's go," Finland whispers back. As they turn to leave, they hear Denmark screaming behind them.

"LET'S GO. LET US GO. LET IT GO. TURN AWAY AND SLAM THE DOOOOOOOORR!"

As fast as a flash of desu sparkles, Denmark gets off the floor and hurtles himself across the room, barrelling into Finland and Iceland, knocking them to the ground. Iceland glances up just in time to see Denmark throw himself out the window, now yelling about knights who say 'Ni'.

We now interrupt this program to show you how life is like in Copenhagen. Or as how they say in Danish, København. Ahh, those Danes. They can never stop shoving potatoes in their mouths. And now, rødgrød med fløde. Seriously. How can they screw up Norwegian that bad?

Copenhagen is a beautiful place. The colourful buildings, the biking, and cars honking as they narrowly miss each other. High up on the side of an apartment complex, a dirty window squeaks open and a balding head pokes out. A wrinkled hand follows suit, holding a small watering can. It tips over a potted fern, sprinkling fresh water on to the thirsty leaves.

"There you go my lovely, all better now. You need to grow big and strong. You're still a little sapling; just a sprout."

His attention is turned from his precious little plant to a sudden mighty bellow;

"ARE YOU WORTHY?"

And on the streets below a fairly well muscled man runs down the road with nothing covering his behind. Or his front.

"... I'll never understand the lingo these kids use today..." The elderly man mumbles under his breath, shaking his head as he withdraws back into his apartment.

"Mr. Lee! It's rent day! I told you I'll be back!"

Down on the streets below, a blonde Dane barrels down the streets, a crazed look in his eyes as he stops in front of a woman on her lunch break. She blinks in shock and surprise as he yells in her face;

"ARE YOU WORTHY?!"

Before he takes off once more.

"What...?"

Denmark continues on his journey, stopping another person and gripping the man's shoulders, giving him a good shake. "ARE YOU WORTHY?!"

"What?! I can't believe it! I'm losing to a rug."

His question goes unanswered as the personification takes off down the concrete jungle.

The citizens of Copenhagen watch in shock and confusion as a particularly good looking-man streaks down their streets. Maybe he's been dumped by his girlfriend...? Or maybe it's the air, it could be different and it's just gone to his head now. They really hoped this wasn't what this guy was usually like; it would just be a bit too much to handle, what with the personification of Denmark being your friendly neighbourhood streaker.

Denmark jumps in front of a group of people, arms stretched out and knees bent slightly. "ARE YOU WORTHY?!"

"Worthy of what?!"

"Dude needs to put some clothes on..." One of them whispers to another.

"ARE YOU WORTHY?!"

"Of what?!"

"OF MY MIGHTY HAMMER!"

They stare at the blonde man. "... Your hammer...?"

"YES! MY MIGHTY HAMMER, MJØLNER!"

"He's not holding a hammer..."

All at once, the groups' eyes drop down to stare at, well... Thor's Mighty Hammer, Mjølner.

"Oh."

With a laugh, the now dubbed "crazy man" sprints down the streets. He throws open the doors to a small fast food place and holds his arms out to the sides. "ARE YOU—!" He pauses, nose wrinkling from the smell of cheap Americanized burgers and other very unhealthy food that would definitely shorten someone's lifespan by 2 years. "NO! NO YOU ARE NOT!"

He retreats quickly, turning and pointing up at the neon sign that read; "BURGER KING".

"YOU, KING OF THE BURGERS, ARE NOT WORTHY!"

"Denmark! What the hell are you doing?!"

He blinks, looking over to see Norway staring at him like he grew a second head.

"AH! NORWAY! YOU ARE WORTHY!"

Norway stared at him with that same deadpan expression. "...Okay. Worthy of what...?"

"OF MY MIGHTY HAMMER OF COURSE! WHAT ELSE?!"

"Uh-huh..." He glances around at the shocked, blushing people. "We should get you some clothes, ja?"

"BUT MY DEAR FRIEND NORWAY! THEN NO ONE WOULD BE ABLE TO SEE AND GAZE UPON MY HAMMER OF MIGHTINESS!"

"I don't think they want to." Norway rubs at his temple with a deep sigh. "Where are the Avengers when you need them?"

"Sorry we're late, he's really fast and we got caught in traffic." Finland says, jogging up to the man's side.

"Yeah, he's surprisingly fast," pants out Iceland. "Alright Denmark, time to put your pants on."

Denmark sticks his tongue out. "NEVER!" Then promptly runs away.

"..." Iceland hangs his head down as his arms droop to his sides with a resigned sigh. Now they had to chase him again...

All eyes turn to Sweden as he steps out of a taxi.

"... Wh't?"

"You made Denmark insane."

He grunts and looks around nonchalantly.

"I think it's time we call her." Iceland whispers to Finland.

Finland sighs deeply. "Do we have to?" He asks. "She's so annoying... And... Know-it-all-y..."

Iceland gives Finland a look. Again.

"... Fine. Call her..."

With a nod, the nation pulls his cell phone out and dials the author's number.

"We need your help."

The author flies through the air, rainbows and badgers trailing behind her, laughing from the call she just received. "I love that guy," She says with amusement as she gives a shake of her head. She soon sees the naked personification running rampant in Copenhagen's streets. "There you are."

The author holds a hand out in front of her body. "YOU. SHALL NOT. PASS!"

"AUTHOR! ARE YOU WORTHY?!"

Denmark rushes for the almighty Fanfiction goddess, but his foot catches on its twin and he trips, face-planting on to the road. He slides forward a bit before his body comes to a halt.

"..."

The author stares down at the man with a deadpanned expression. Her hand drops to her side when she hears loud snoring rumble in Denmark's nasal canal. With a deep sigh, she looks to the side to see Iceland and Finland rushing over with clothes and undying love, obviously for the now sleeping Personification.

"No more caffeine for Denmark."