11pm

"Woo! Yeah! Drop it like it's hot, Taiwan!" cheered Alfred. His experiment – to see the effect of alcohol on a room full of East Asian nations – had displayed exciting results. Yong Soo had produced a mini speaker from his back pocket, so now they were all dancing awfully to Gangnam Style. Hong Kong had accidentally roamed into the party at one point, but Alfred had filled his belly full of punch too, so now he was as wild as the rest of them. Macau suddenly had a fan in his hand and was twirling provocatively around Leon, who didn't seem to mind at all. Heracles had fallen asleep with half of his body outside of the room.

Yong Soo was leading the disco, impossibly hyped. "I invented this dance!" he cried ecstatically.

"No you didn't- *hic* oh wait, yes you did," squeaked Kiku.

As they all sang "Eh, sexy lady", Taiwan leered over Vietnam and gave her wink, causing Vietnam to fall into a fit of giggles on the floor. Thailand tucked his hands under her armpits in an attempt to pull her back up; however he also lost his footing and ended up piling on top of her. This prompted the rest of the room to pile on top of them.

Alfred lounged playfully at the very top of the human pile. "Hey, guys – is it just me or is it hot in here?" the American shouted over the music. His skin felt sizzling hot and very uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Oh my God Alfred," Taiwan gazed up at him in disbelief. "You're on fire!"

"Hey, thanks! I always practice dancing in front of the TV at home so- HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" he screeched abruptly. From the corner of Alfred's eye he saw that the wing of his jumper was alight and spreading rapidly: one of the fairy lights on his jumper had overheated and burst.

"AAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE" the American screamed, leaping from the pile and dashing out down the hallway, fully ablaze.

"Alfred!" the Asian nations yelled after him, stumbling drunkenly from the ground in an attempt to catch up with the burning American.

11pm (again)

"What. The. Actual. Fuck." Lukas was the only one of the Nordic's who could react to scene they had just been witness too.

The five of them had been minding their own business by the front door (Peter had bounded off in search of his fellow micro nations) discussing the progress of the party, when a flaming Alfred F. Jones had torn towards them from down the hall. Berwald sidestepped him easily, tugging Tino and Emil out the American's path. Mathias' quick reflexes had yanked Lukas back, while the flames that licked Alfred's being missed the Dane by a hair's breadth. Alfred had steamed straight through them, bailing feet-first out of the glass porch, shattering it completely. He had carried on running into the snowfall for about five metres until he collapsed into a bed of snow.

"He was… on fire?" Emil said quietly, still stunned.

"I should check if he's still alive," Tino realised and jogged into the blizzard. He reached the patch of snow that Alfred had sunken into and pulled the fried nation's arm over his shoulder. "Alfred, are you still with us?" he asked anxiously as he pulled the American onto his feet.

"Oooouuuuch," whined Alfred, hugging his charred chest.

Tino looked back towards the porch, only to see that almost everyone from the party was now at gathered at the entrance, looking on apprehensively.

"Is he dead? Oh no, what a shame," Ivan remarked sardonically from the porch. "It looks like there is a hole in the power vacuum…" he added darkly. New Zealand and Australia shuffled steadily away in fear.

"Ok you guys," the Finn shouted through the snowfall. "We need to talk."

11.30pm

"Now that everyone is finally accounted for, I'll start," Tino paced back and forth.

Everyone had been gathered into the main room again – some more worse-for-wear than others.

"You know, I'm not even surprised that one of you spiked the punch," he continued.

Alfred sat half-dead on a chair in the corner, a steady stream of smoke rising from his naked torso. The poor boy's upper body was already healing; however his nipples had been completely seared from his being. Gilbert – who had been shaken awake forcefully by Ludwig; the German had thought that his older brother had finally kicked the bucket – stood next to Mathew, the two of them staring awkwardly at their feet whilst scuffing the floor.

"And you know what?" Tino asked. "I don't even care," with that, he marched into the catering room, poured himself a large glass of punch, stepped back into main room and downed the lot in one swill. The room erupted with a roar of cheering. "Let's get this party started properly!" the Finn exclaimed merrily.

"I have a karaoke machine in my car!" Yong Soo declared.

12am

"Relight my fire! Your love is my only desire~" the five Nordics sang, in impressive harmony no less. Alfred glared at them from the corner of the room, his wounds being treated by Molossia and Arthur. Suddenly Eduard slid in beside the Nord's and busted out Lulu's solo effortlessly (for some reason he was shirtless too). Yong Soo and Kiku had hooked the karaoke machine up to the impressive sound system in the main party room.

"Screw this," Alfred got up from his chair with a grunt once their song was finally over. He hobbled to the karaoke area and was about to select 'California Girls' when Ivan called in a sing song voice:

"Hey America, what is it like walking around with no nipples?"

"Easy baby; I'm smooth like a Ken doll!" Alfred retorted with a wink, lavishing both hands down his muscular torso.

"Dear God," Arthur groaned, ashamed (and possibly a little aroused).

The Everclear punch had maxed out ten minutes ago, so now they were drinking from the Nordic's own personal collection. They had wheeled out several wine racks from the cellar and set them laboriously at the back of the party room, behind the humongous Christmas tree, for all to enjoy.

Before Alfred could conduct his shirtless rendition of the Katy Perry song, there was a knock at the door. The party glanced at each other with puzzled expressions on their faces; hadn't Tino just said that everyone had been accounted for? The Finn excused himself from the room and opened his one door that hadn't been destroyed by Alfred F. Jones. A tall, tan woman wearing a hijab stood defiantly before him.

"I know that you know that I don't celebrate Christmas," Algeria stated, hands on hips. "But if you don't let me join, that would be super racist."

Meanwhile

Peter and his merry band of micro nations separated themselves from the main party and arrived in the kitchen. It was a vast space, with cupboards stocked high with ingredients and various worktops to prepare food on. India was at the other end of the room wearing a long cardigan that had been made from the finest silks. He had obviously gotten a bit peckish, so had started making a curry. Cameroon was working nearby him on another counter, baking cassava cake – on his sweater was a football with snowflakes knitted into the black hexagons.

Peter picked a counter immediately by the door and settled the plastic packet on the side.

"Kugel, this was your idea – what ingredients do we need?" Peter demanded.

The other boy thought for a while. "…flour, chocolate, caster sugar, butter and eggs." He gestured to the bag on the counter and added "We already have cocoa powder."

Peter turned to Ladonia and Wy, revelling in this small window of leadership. "Wy, you take the flour and caster sugar – it's in that cupboard in the far corner. Ladonia, get the butter, eggs and chocolate from the fridge – lots of chocolate!" he added with a grin.

Meanwhile

Yong Soo was getting hungry. He had wondered the house for ten minutes now, trying to find the kitchen. He was about to ask the Nordics where it was but they had launched into a full blown rendition of Take That's 'Relight My Fire' on his karaoke machine, and the Korean figured he could find it quicker by himself rather than waiting for them to finish. After traipsing the whole vicinity he was somehow back where he started – in the hallway that led to the main party room where everyone was karaoke-ing.

His stomach growled viciously. "Ugh, man!" He groaned with both hands to belly. "What kind of cruel joke is this?"

"Don't worry, I'm an America!" a shrill voice suddenly cried from the hallway door – the catering room. The Korean screamed.

"Oh," Yong Soo realised with a chuckle, "It's just a mochi!" He licked his lips. "A mochi… that's just what I need…" He scooped up the thing in his hands. America mochi simply stared back at him with soulless blue orbs. The Korean tilted his head back, and just as it was about to slide in-

"No!" Eduard scrabbled frantically from the doorway of the party room, still shirtless. "DON'T EAT THAT MOCHI!" The Estonian leapt towards Yong Soo, but it was too late.

The Korean gulped down the rest of America Mochi and turned to Eduard in alarm. "Why? What's wrong?" he fretted.

"Because-"

Eduard was cut off by Yong Soo suddenly throwing his head back and gagging. His body then lurched forward and the Korean lumbered into the party room with his shoulder's hunched and his nails digging deep into his own scalp. The rest of the startled nations looked at him in horror and Eduard knew that he hadn't been fast enough. All he could do now was watch.

"Im Yong Soo, what is wrong?" Yao asked cautiously with a deep crease of concern etched onto his own forehead. He took a small step towards the Korean.

Yong Soo's head suddenly snapped towards the Chinaman. Yao gasped in revulsion: the boy's face had been replaced completely by the face of America Mochi. His brown eyes had been replaced by large and unblinking baby blue ones. His mouth was curled into a '௰' shape, and his once happy hair-curl was now also exhibiting the same face. A tense minute passed of the possessed Korean just staring into Yao's very soul, when he suddenly bolted from the room and down the hall.

"WE HAVE TO CATCH HIM!" screamed Eduard to the disturbed group. Before anyone could ask him what exactly they had just witnessed, the Estonian was tumbling down the hall after Yong Soo. With no time for answers, Tino shook himself out of his horrified daze and dashed in close behind Eduard, beckoning the rest of the party to follow. The Korean had now thrown open the front door, grabbed Lukas' staff and leapt outside - heading directly for the sleigh.

"That's not possible," Eduard thought to himself as he made it to the front doorway. "Can he even use magic?"

As if in response to this thought, the mochi-faced nation waved the staff high above his head. A crackle of lime green energy burst from the tip and snaked its way through the air, finally resting on the eight wire reindeer at the front of the sleigh. As they absorbed the magic, a thick layer of fur began sprouting from their metal frames. They started to twitch – first a hoof, then an ear, then a tail. With a final burst of white light, all eight reindeer were suddenly alive, shaking their bodies awake and sniffing the air. Eduard's mouth hung slack.

Tino had also now arrived at the front door. "Eduard! Don't just stand there – he's stealing my sleigh!"

While the Estonian had been staring in awe at the reindeer transformation, the Korean had vaulted into the sleigh and took up the driver's seat. The Finn darted out to stop him, but it was too late. Yong Soo had taken up the leather steering straps, and with a final "Hyaah!" he whipped them down onto the reindeer. They all jolted and began frantically scampering forward, slowly lifting themselves and the huge red sleigh into the air.

The rest of the party had made it to the door now and watched the Korean fly away into the night sky in shock and wonder.

"That can't be good," said Cuba.

Berwald stepped in beside Tino, and the Finn looked up at him with tears in his eyes. The Swede put a consoling hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

Berwald turned to Lukas. "What can we do?" he asked.

The Norwegian shrugged. "You should be asking him," he pointed over to where Eduard was standing, who was shivering from the cold due to his lack of shirt.

"Yeah, that's a good point," Algeria piped up. "What exactly did we just witness, Eduard?"

The Estonian adjusted his glasses shakily. "C-can we go inside and talk about this? It's freezing cold out here…"

12.30am

"So, what you're saying is that you bought dangerous sentient entities to our party?" Ludwig glared down at Eduard, his muscular arms folded. They were all back in the party room.

"N-no, not dangerous, I mean - America Mochi is the only one that would pull a stunt like this," the Estonian trembled.

"And where are the rest of these 'mochis', bastard?" Romano glowered.

"I managed to find them all and lock them in my car." answered Eduard. "I was searching for America Mochi when I heard you guys" – he gestured to the Nordics – "singing Take That, and I couldn't resist joining in…"

"You halted your search for a potentially dangerous creature so you could sing a bit of Lulu?" Arthur synopsised unbelievably. Eduard hung his head in shame.

"I have tried to phone Yong Soo but he will not pick up!" Yao held up his phone weakly. "This is all your fault!" he pointed to Eduard aggressively.

"Will he stay like that forever?" Taiwan asked, fiddling nervously with her hair. "I mean, with the mochi-face…" she shivered at the very thought.

"I don't think so…" Eduard replied unconvincingly. "Hopefully it will be just like eating real food, so eventually he should, ahem…"

"He should what?" Leon pressed.

Eduard's cheeks grew scarlet. "… Poop it out."

"Aiyah! You so disgusting!" Yao cried indignantly.

The whole room was silent for a minute. It was never good to lose one of their own on Christmas day, or any day for that matter.

"Well, there's no good in fretting about it now," Antonio tried to reassure everybody. "We gotta look on the bright side, eh?"

"The booty-God has a point," agreed Alfred. "Plus, all of this drama is making me kinda hungry."

"Me too," said Australia.

"Kitchen's over there," Tino informed monotonously, gesturing to a door along the hall.

Arthur approached the Finn. "Here," the Englishman offered him some ale. "This will make you feel better, mate. I know what it's like to lose a good ship."

"Thanks," Tino took the alcohol and chugged it down horribly fast. "I've had her for hundreds of years, y'know?"

Arthur nodded solemnly. From the corner of his eye he saw Alfred glaring at the floor and lightly kicking at it with his converse trainers. The poor American looked like a sad mess - his nipples were burnt out craters, and he still had black scorch marks running up his abs. The waistband of his denim jeans was also frayed and charred.

"Excuse me," the Englishman nodded to Tino and paced over to the American.

"What's wrong with you then?" Arthur asked.

"Man, it's just… that thing that Yong Soo ate, that was… me?" the American stared guiltily into Arthur's jade eyes.

"Well, yes, a mini-version of you," he affirmed. "But don't go blaming yourself for what happened."

Alfred jutted his chin and puffed out his bare chest. "But I'm supposed to be the hero!"

"Jesus lad, I didn't know you were such a depressing drunk," Arthur sighed wearily. "Maybe some food will cheer you up?"

Alfred's eyes sparkled. "Yeah! Food is happy!"

"Bloody hell, he's hammered," Arthur thought to himself. He caught sight of Berwald leading Australia and Roderich to the kitchen. The Englishman and the American slipped in behind the three of them.

"Oh, it's you," Australia slurred, jabbing a muscular finger into Arthur's chest. The pun on his jumper struck Arthur as particularly awful - 'Merry CROCmas'.

"And your favourite boy!" Kyle cackled in Alfred's face.

"Huh?" Alfred, oblivious as he is, had no idea what the Australian meant by 'favourite boy'.

"What have I created…" Arthur murmured harshly to himself.

"Here we are," Berwald interrupted as they reached the kitchen door.

"Pooh! What is that ghastly smell?" Roderich gasped, pinching his nose.

Berwald's pale blue eyes narrowed. He grabbed the kitchen door handle and yanked it open, causing a rush of air to escape from inside.

"Dude, is that pot?" Alfred sniffed.

Arthur peered into the kitchen only to find Peter, Ladonia, Wy and KugelMugel lounging lazily on the kitchen floor together with a plate of brownie crumbs between them. They were surrounded by empty packets of crisps and biscuits, and all four of them had content smiles on their cheerful little faces. India and Cameroon were knelt down beside them, exchanging rushed questions and giving each other worried side-glances.

"What the devil happened in here?" demanded Arthur, storming over to the huddle of nations. The four kids looked up in alarm and fear at the Englishman. They shared a few pleading looks with each other before suddenly bursting into a fit of snorts and giggles. Arthur glanced to Cameroon for an explanation, but he just shrugged.

"It appears they have eaten a prohibited substance," India explained.

"You mean they made hash brownies?" Alfred chuckled, gaining a warning glance from Arthur.

"Yes," India continued. "They have also ransacked the kitchen – they even stole my curry," India shook his head woefully.

"Wait, are you telling me there's no food left?" Alfred urged, panic rising in his voice.

"That's not important right now!" cried Roderich. "Republic of KugelMugel, get up this instant!"

Kugel looked up at the Austrian lazily. "No."

Roderich gaped. "How dare you disobey me? Come here right now!"

"He said 'no' old bloke," Wy threw her arm protectively around Kugel's shoulders.

Roderich turned to Australia. "Do something about your micro nation," He commanded haughtily.

"My micronation? She's her own woman, ya bludger," the Australian replied proudly.

"Fine, handle these infants yourself," Roderich huffed and stepped briskly from the kitchen.

"That bloody Netherlands," Arthur growled. "Giving this stuff to children… I'll have him for this."

"So… what should we do with them?" Alfred asked. The four micro nations were still slouched against one another on the ground.

"I say we leave 'em," Australia proposed. "They ain't doing no harm as they are."

Arthur looked up at Berwald, who simply shrugged.

"I don't agree with leaving them in this state, but they appear to be dozing off anyway. We'll inform everyone that all of the food is gone, so nobody should come in here and disturb their sleep," said the Englishman.

"I'll keep an eye on them," the Swede assured.

"But what are we gonna do about food?" whined Alfred.

"How about we order a pizza, yeah?" Arthur offered in a comforting tone. Alfred squealed excitedly and grinned.

"Hell yeah! Let's order everyone pizza!" Alfred fist-bumper the air and proceeded to do a little happy dance.

"But for the love of God, do cover yourself up lad," Arthur reached around and pulled his own green jumper over his head, then threw it over to the American. "It won't fit, but at least you'll regain some dignity. Now, I need to get some drink in me before I go insane." He added before excusing himself from the kitchen.