AN- I am so so so sorry for taking so long to update! I've had writer's block for- how long has it been? Six, seven months? Still unable to write anything decent but I figured I'd at least try and update for you ;n; I was so close to finishing when my laptop decided, "Hey! Won't it just be butt loads of fun to RESTAR T myself!?" so I have to rewrite it. I apologize ahead of time. Also, in order to avoid long waits like this chapter, leave me any suggestions you have to happen in the next one in your review, da~?

I end up asking the two idiots, Fatty and Captain Eyebrows. After a moment of thought, and a swift kick in Arthur's shin, they agree that yes, they can and will take me to Ludwig's house. I follow them to the most god ugly car I've ever seen and Arthur and Alfred climb into the front two seats, leaving me standing outside. The fuckers had taken out the backseats, I don't know why, and I don't think I want to know either, but they did. Alfred, realizing the significant lack of seats in the car, pats his leg and grins.

Whoa there! What the hell does he expect!? For me to just crawl up into his lap and sit there the whole ride!? I refuse, claiming I'd rather be strapped to the roof.

Of course though, ten minutes later I'm strapped in shotgun, on top of Alfred, plotting his murder as Arthur's shitty music plays on the radio. Luckily, Alfred switches the radio to his own station, but it turns out his choice in music is even more fucked up. Honestly, I don't know what I expected.

Fortunately for me, the ride is short. Apparently I had passed the Potato bastard's house, about thirty minutes ago, so driving would only take about five minutes. Except Arthur was driving, so it took closer to fifteen and every extra minute was forty times more aggravating than the last. I swear to fuck I was watching fucking rust grow on the hood of his car. Before they even pull up to his house, I wiggle myself free of the seat belt and Alfred's inhumanly strong grasp and escaped through the open window. They gave me a weird look and I resist flipping them off as they drive away. I scurry over to the door, taking car to kick a tacky looking garden gnome over and proceed to excessively ring the bell.

I push the button once. After a minute goes by and there is no noise what so ever on the other side, I ring again. And again. I ring about five more times before I just hold my finger there, letting out a long, continuous chime throughout the house. "Fucking hell!" I angrily sit on the front step and put my head in my hands. The clock in Arthur's car had said it was only half past nine, so I doubt he'd be asleep. The asshole must have gone out. "Probably buying more glue for his hair," I decide.

I end up falling asleep there, waking an hour later to slurred laughter and the heavy smell of You beer. I sit up groggily as a voice says, "Careful, Bruder! You have an Italian at your door, don't damage him!" Gilbert guides the other past me, swaying a bit himself. I follow the two into the house.