Well, I haven't done anything Christmas-y writing wise, but here's something kinda' silly and stupid for the lot of you following my story.

How Prussians Annoy Floridians

By Dragon-Child of Lightning

Case-In-Point 7: Contest

Once again, Florida had found herself in a peculiar predicament that was with the Bad Friend Trio; again. This contest she governing was the brain child of Denmark, Sweden, America, Prussia, and Germany and Austria (the last two kinda' had it all thrown in their face against their will). All six (plus the rest of the Axis Powers, the rest of the Nordics, England, France, Hungary, and BFT plus Florida) had agreed meet at a bar. The contest wasn't drinking beer, arm wrestling, or even just regular wrestling.

No; it was contest to see who would break first and tell their crush that they liked them. Basically, it was a staring contest. Whoever came in last place would have to tell their crush they liked them.

"So who do you think's gonna' win?" Florida asked Norway.

"Do' know," she shrugged. "Denmark just told us all to come 'ere."

"Whoever it is I sure hope no one kills each other in the end. There's no need for World War III."

"And what are the stakes again?"

"Whoever loses has to tell their crush they like them."

"…I don't know wither to be terrified or not."

"Why?"

"Because Denmark likes me."

Florida looked directly at Norway. "Then what is the point of Den being here then?"

Norway shrugged. "No idea. You know men; their egos are more inflated then hot air balloons."

"Well I can tell you one thing," England put it. "Whoever loses, their dignity is going to plummet."

"Why would you say that?"

England snorted and tossed her head. "Because they're all bloody idiots who think their brawn is more important than their brains."

"True," Florida shrugged. "But I just hope Al doesn't- wait, brawn? Where does brawn play into this?"

"It does somewhere."

So soon enough, the six men began. The only reason, I may add, that Austria was even there was to even out the numbers. Only problem for the others was that Austria, other than Sweden, was actually really good at staring into nothingness.
So there was America, attempting very hard to keep his eyes open while Prussia was having the same trouble. Germany, even though a man of steel, lost easily to Austria. Denmark instantly lost when Sweden gave the Dane his signature, and most defiantly scary, glare.

Finally, (as a dumb way to break the tie), all three countries would stare at a mirror and the first one would be evicted from the competition. Naturally, Prussia lost; and none too gracefully. While Austria and Sweden's started the deciding factor, the losers went at it with each other to see who would be the biggest loser; and not the TV show kind. This is where the brawn came in; wrestling. America kicked Denmark's butt to the North Pole while Germany just basically sat on Prussia (not being an actual country for a few centuries drains your power; a lot).

And, with Austria and Sweden still staring, it was finally Prussia's turn against the strong Dane. Florida saw the sweat gather around the albino's brow. He doesn't want to lose, she thought. She snickered. I feel bad for the poor girl he does like if he loses.

But when push came to shove, Gilbert found himself victorious over Matthias, and the Dane found himself flat, out-cold, on the floor.

"That's what happens when you mess with AWESOME!" boasted the albino, Gilbird fluttering around Gil's head.

"That's our boy for yeah," France smiled.

"A friend to be proud of," Spain agreed, sloshing around his beer.

Jez rolled her eyes and clapped slowly as she walked slowly towards her acquaintances. "Nice work. Looks like Matthew has to spill his guts now," she joked.

"It's Matthias, and you know it, Jeza-smell," Denmark spat. Jezabel rolled her eyes again. When she had first met Matthias, the poor blonde couldn't pronounce his name correctly and kept calling him Matthew. And even when she finally figured out the pronunciation, she still called Den Matthew.

And, that concluded that. Prussia stepped back, and eagerly watched as Denmark dramatically dropped to one knee in front of Norway and melodramatically rehearsed a speech he must have written. The purple eyed woman, stared blankly at Den, and in the end, yanked his hair and walked away.

"She's totally into me," Matthias reported, covering the part of his head that now probably had a bald spot.

"Sure she is Denmark, sure she is," Iceland sighed.

(P.s., Austria did lose, but after twenty minutes worth of staring)

To you reader,

I'm so sorry. I had a bad case of stare-at-screen-but-have-no-inspiration fever. Thanks for dealing with me!
(?; what is Fem!Norway's human name?)

DCoL