When Scout and I came back with our arms full of shopping bags, the house looked a lot...fuller than I remembered.

"Uh, Scout?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think there were a lot of people here when we left."

"There weren't."

"Ah." I stood at the door, peering inside windows and stalking everyone. (Not in a creepy way, if that's possible. Countries I spotted: Canada, America, Britain, Korea, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, and a bunch of other guys I didn't recognize. I barged in and dropped the bags of pasta ingredients on the counter.

"Hey, man," Scout greeted someone. "You're huge, you know that?"

"So they say."

I spun around on my heels and marched over to the "tall guy." "Russia!"

He turned to me and smiled. "Helo, Bell-"

"What in God's name are all these people doing here?!" I practically screamed at him. "I've only been gone for fifteen minutes!"

Russia flinched. "I don't know. America called me."

I saw America and grabbed his jacket collar, yanking him towards me.

"Ow! What the-?"

"Who told you about this?" I asked angrily.

"Huh?" America thought for a moment. "I think it was Britain."

I literally went around the world, asking who invited who. Here's what I got: Britain was invited by China, who was invited by Japan, who was invited by Hong Kong, who was invited by Canada, who was invited by-

"Prussia!" I screamed. I stormed over to him and slapped Gilbird out of the air. (Go ahead, hate me.)

"Why'd you do that?!: Prussia gasped, picking the bird up and cradling it.

"You are ruining my chances of staying here," I growled. "If you have parties like this all the time, how am I supposed keep permission to stay here? Romano's gonna kick me out!"

"Don't worry, it's just for Christmas," Prussia shrugged.

"Bella!"

"Crud." I quickly hid behind Prussia (which didn't do much) was Romano stomped in. He glared at me was I peeked out from behind Prussia.

"What are all these people doing here?"

"How should I know?!" I countered. "Seriously, I was out with Scout and we were only gone fifteen minutes before...this happened." I raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of which, where is Scout?"

We all immediately looked over to the banister, which Scout was sliding down. She turned to whoever was at the top of the stairs. "Alright, now you try."

"What is up with you people and sliding down rails?" Romano groaned.

"Um," the person upstairs muttered. "But this isn't my house. They might be mad at me."

"It's fine," Scout reassured her. "Just one little slide and it's done."

The person sighed and swung her legs over the banister and pushed off. She giggled on the way down and landed on her flats.

"Not bad for your first time," Scout said. "Although I'm surprised a woman of your age's never done this before."

"Belgium!" Romano gasped.

"Belgium?" I repeated. "Sounds familiar." I thought back to my history class, but I only remembered the flag and that they were known for waffles.

"Oh, hi!" She walked over to Romano and smiled cutely at him. "It was really nice of you to let all these people here. I know it must be a pain, but it was very kind of you."

"Uh, y-yeah," Romano stuttered.

And thus the manipulator is manipulated.

"Do you want to come with me?" Belgium asked. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Um, sure," he answered shyly.

"Cover for me," I whispered to Prussia. I took this opportunity to slip away and find someone else. I knew I was safe if I was with two certain friends.

"Oh, Italy!" I called. I waved to him and ran over. Naturally, I found him hanging around Germany.

"Ciao, Bella!" he greeted happily.

I looked up and Germany. "Hey."

"Hi."

"I hope you don't mind, but I have to stay around you guys until everyone's gone," I explained. "Romano's real angry with me, so…"

"That's fine!" Italy agreed. "Right, Germany?"

"...Right?"

Ah, Germany. A man of few words. To me, anyway. (I never did anything wrong, so he couldn't yell at me.)

"Okay," I sighed. "So I traced this down to Prussia's fault. It may be ultimately Scout, but she only planned for three people. Wait, has Spain found Romano yet?"

"Yes," Italy answered. "But Romano started cursing him out so he left. Not the house, but, you know, the room."

"Aw," I moaned. "He's so mean. Well, let's just enjoy ourselves while we can."

*OMG I was learning about Venezia yesterday and I learned something really ironic!

Romano: This oughta be good.

Venezia people (as I've learned from the teacher's aid) apparently don't like Americans! And from what I've seen from Italy and America, the get along fairly well.

Romano: Anything else...?

Venezia people don't like Germans eithe-

Romano: YES! YEEEEEEESSSS! *fist pump*

Italy (Veneziano): …? I'm kinda confused…Uh, Romano?

Romano: YEEEEEEEEEEEEES! *throws confetti*

A-Actually, I don't know if this is true or not-

Romano: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!

...Let's just leave him be.

k bye.*