As usual, I'm writing chapters when I should be doing homework instead. But I'm tired... I just made an epic animation for my Powerpoint presentation and I kinda don't want to continue anymore. Oh well, I guess I'll pull an all-nighter the day before school starts...
There was something else I had wanted to say but I forgot what it was. See, this just goes to show how tired I am.
Canada spread two slices of bread on the plate. Then, grabbing a bottle of maple syrup, he poured it all over one of the slices. America watched with growing horror as the golden liquid soaked into the bread. "Um, Mattie, are you feeling okay?" he said. He knew he sure wasn't, not after seeing this… this god-awful abomination of a lunch. If it could even be called that.
"Of course I'm fine," Canada replied, putting the bread together and taking a bite of his sandwich. "Hmm. I think it needs some honey… or jam…"
Great. A quasi-invisible nation high on sugar. Somehow America had a feeling the other countries would be screaming poltergeist soon.
"By the way," said Canada, "where are your glasses?"
America touched a hand to his face. They were gone. "Holy [BLEEP] on a [BLEEP] sandwich!" he cried. "That bastard Mexico must've stolen them again!" Canada looked slightly annoyed at having his lunch insulted, but was ignored, as usual. "I gotta go! Catch you later, Mattie!" He rushed off in search of his missing Texas.
Canada sighed. "And so, here I am, all alone again… Like hell Alfred's gonna come back…"
Beside him, Bahrain was making himself a Nutella sandwich. "That's okay," he said, patting the Canadian's shoulder. "Karma'll get him."
Canada blinked. "Who are you?"
"Today," Romano muttered, "I have to eat paella with a bunch of crazy Latin Americans." As though to prove his point, Mexico chose this moment to hurl his spoon at El Salvador. It bounced off the latter's head and hit Bolivia. "God, why do You hate me? I've asked you this so many times already, and every time I do, it's usually because of Spain; it must be because I'm with him."
"Aww, Lovi, I'm hurt," Spain said with a pout. "I thought you liked being with me!" He tried to hug Romano but was pushed away. "Lovi…"
Romano suddenly found himself dribbling rice from his ear when El Salvador lobbed a spoonful of it at Mexico and missed. "Damn it!" he snarled, rounding on the Central American nation, who quickly bowed in apology and retreated. A moment later Mexico returned fire and hit Romano's other ear.
"Juan, don't waste food," Cuba chided, snatching the boy's spoon out of his hand.
"No fair! He started it!"
"Then you end it, or else I'll tell Maya what you did to her marigolds."
Mexico's eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"
"Oh, I'm sure he would," Paraguay interjected, smirking. "She was crying about it for weeks, wasn't she? And you didn't even apologize. Tsk, tsk."
"To be precise," Uruguay added, "you were too weak to apologize." His cell phone rang. "Hello? This is Uruguay, without a P, as in Cairo… one moment." He handed the phone to Paraguay.
"Yes, this is Paraguay, with a P, as in Philippines…"
"Ve," said Italy, "somehow the way they talk seems familiar."
"Well, of course it does," said Uruguay. "It's not like we've never met before."
"To be precise: it's like we've met before," said Paraguay, before turning back to his phone conversation: "Hello? It's still Paraguay. Yeah, with the P, like in 'pneumatic' and 'photosynthesis'…"
Spain giggled as Mexico tried to hide behind him. "Hooray, this feels just like a family reunion!" He was promptly bowled over by an enraged Romano trying to get at the Hispanic cowering behind his back.
"Not really," Chile muttered, glaring in the direction of the only non-family member…
Brazil flashed him the middle finger and continued sulking in the corner. Hell, it wasn't like he wanted to be here. It was just that he… he… was hanging around out of habit! Yeah, that must be it! He was so used to being surrounded by those damn Spanish-speakers that he had come here without even realizing it! S-so there!
He yelled angrily when a strong hand seized the back of his collar. The indignation quickly turned into fear, however, when he heard a voice hiss, "And just what are you doing here, João?"
England and Wales clutched each other tightly as a figure slowly approached. "Sis, if I don't make it," said England, "I just want you to know: I left my will in the safe upstairs. The combination is—"
"Yo, Arthur!" Prussia popped his head out of the brush. "Fancy meeting you here! What are you doing, making out? With your sister?" He cackled. "Just wait 'til Francis hears about this! Kesesesesesese!"
"Sh-shut up!" England cried, letting go of Wales. "We most certainly are not doing anything of the sort!" He blinked. "Wait, why are you here?"
"Me? Oh, you know, I'm just stalking Roddy, as usual…"
England and Wales exchanged glances. "Then, if you're stalking Austria, and you're here…" England began.
"That must mean… oh!" Wales gasped. "The one who shot at us was—!"
Sweden breathed a sigh of relief as Belarus finally left the bathroom. Thank goodness that bitch hadn't looked up. If she had, she might've seen the red spatters on the fan blades and realized someone was there. He tried to wipe his nose and realized his hands were still stuck. "Damn," he mumbled, sniffling instead. At least it hadn't been Fin down there, or he might've died from amnesia. Then again, maybe not—the blood would've gone elsewhere instead of his nose…
"Sweden?"
He looked up. Lying across from the grille, in pretty much the same position as he was in, was Seborga.
"Oh my gosh! It is you!" The Italian brother beamed. "Hey, maybe you could help me out? I came up here to escape from Wy, but it seems like I'm stuck…" To prove his point, he wriggled around a little. "Ah, p-perhaps you could un-stick me?"
Oh. Oh.
This was interesting.
Sweden had a feeling they were going to be there for a long time…
"Lonely… I'm Mister Lonely… I have nobody… for my own…" France sang softly to himself. He stirred his coffee half-heartedly. Antonio was off frolicking with his kids, Gilbert was busy stalking Roderich, Arthur had been dragged off by that pretty sister of his… Estefânia had probably jilted him for Arthur or gone to beat the crap out of her son, and Seychelles and Monaco were hanging out together and ignoring him again. Even Niger had hopped on board the Let's-Be-Mean-to-France train and shot him an ugly look upon passing him in the hall earlier. He sighed. How he wished for someone to talk to…
"Like, it's France! Hey, man!" Poland sat down beside him. "Do you like my new outfit? It's totally awesome, isn't it?"
France felt a bit of his France-ness returning as he eyed the Pole's bikini. "Oh yes," he said, smiling to himself, "it's terrific… ohonhonhon…"
Someone up there must really like him.
"Someone up there must really hate me," Indonesia said to herself as she peered warily into the freezer. "Darn it, why couldn't Brunei have done this instead?" Then again, Brunei hated the cold just as much as she did. She spotted what she was looking for, darted inside, grabbed it and was about to leave when—
"O-o-o-oi-i…"
Indonesia nearly screamed when a big frosty grey thing suddenly jumped before her. "It's a yeti!" she cried, backing up in panic. Then she noticed that it was a guy in a suit. "T-Temasek?"
Singapore was shivering so violently he didn't even have to nod in acknowledgement; his head was bobbing up and down enough on its own. "I-I-I-I-I g-g-got-t-t s-s-s-stuck-k," he stuttered, folding his arms. "H-h-help me…"
Indonesia blinked. Then she shook her head with a sigh. "Temasek, you idiot," she said, escorting him to the door. Singapore's eyes widened as it swung open easily with a swift kick from the Indonesian.
"The door opens outwards, dummy!"
Brazil gulped. He was in big trouble now. "M-M-Mãe," he squeaked, forcing a smile as he slowly turned around to face the stern-faced woman behind him. "H-h-how've you b-been?"
Portugal scowled. "Answer my question, fool," she growled, yanking him backwards by his shirt. "What are you doing mingling with these Spanish jerks?"
"Oh, he's really getting it now," Paraguay whispered.
Uruguay nodded. "To be precise: he's really ghetto."
Brazil put on the best kicked-puppy look he could muster and looked piteously at his mother. "M-Mama…" Portugal's eyes narrowed.
"Oho! He's sucking up to her!" Uruguay crowed.
"To be precise: he sucks!" Paraguay added.
Whatever Brazil was doing, it seemed to work; a minute later Portugal let go of him and stormed up to Spain. The Spaniard, still trapped between Romano and Mexico, smiled innocently at her. "Hermana~"
His statement ended in a strangled gasp as Portugal drove her boot into his crotch.
"You," she snarled, grinding her heel into his vital regions, "what do you think you're doing, making João wallow amongst your filthy brood?"
"B-but," Spain protested, "he came here of his own acco—AAAAAAAHHHHHH! M-mercy! I haven't even h-had children with Lovi yet…"
Portugal gave him a long hard glare. Then she huffed. "Whatever." She whirled around and seized Brazil. "Antonio, if I find that he's forgotten even a single word of Portuguese…" she drew her finger across her throat. Spain shuddered. "Let's go, you ungrateful brat," she said, dragging Brazil off by the ear.
"Ve, Spain-niichan, are you okay?" said Italy, looking worriedly at the crumpled heap of man that was supposed to be Spain.
"Of course he's not okay," said Paraguay.
"To be precise—" Uruguay started.
"Shut up!" Chile snapped.
"You shut up! I'm Master Uruguay! Bow before my awesome staff-wielding shell-toting might—"
Chile slapped him.
Austria swore as his foot landed in something gross and squishy. Eww, now his shoe would never be clean again. Where was he? He had absolutely no idea. All he knew was that his beautiful plan was on the verge of being ruined and he was on the verge of losing his sanity.
This was all America's fault, he decided.
Yes, it was all America's fault Austria was standing there in mud and dead bugs and goodness knew what else, cursing and shivering in the cold, with a gun slung over his shoulder and America's glasses in his hand. How had it happened? He tried to recall…
He'd been practicing a nocturne when America had started playing Minesweeper. Now, that wouldn't have been so bad by itself, but the damn Yankee kept making sound effects to go with the game. Several minutes of infernal ticking and bomb imitation noises later, Austria had finally snapped. Noticing the glasses on the desk beside him, he'd snatched them and tucked them into his pocket. Then he'd 'borrowed' Switzerland's rifle and set off in search of Mexico. He would wait until America came looking for his glasses, he'd decided, and fire a round of ammunition into that rambunctious troublemaker's head. And if Mexico got caught in the crossfire—well, that one was pretty annoying too, actually. Then he would sneakily return the gun and make it look like it was Switzerland who'd pulled the trigger on them. Two birds with one stone! At least, that had been the plan. And a most brilliant plan it had been.
Things were looking rather un-brilliant now. Partly because he was lost in the woods and the sky was turning cloudy.
Somewhere a twig snapped. Austria froze. What was that? A bear? A wolf? A rabid fangirl? He whirled around, gun held out in front of him, squinting into the darkness. "Wh-who's there?" he demanded.
"Don't shoot!" a familiar voice cried. Austria lowered the gun. That sounded like…
"England?" the Austrian said in disbelief as said nation stumbled into view, hands held over his head in surrender. "What are you doing here?"
"We got lost! Why were you firing at us?" England demanded as he gave the all-clear to Wales and Prussia. Austria almost pulled the trigger at the sight of the albino, but managed to restrain himself.
"I didn't. I haven't fired a single shot since I got this gun," he said, lowering the weapon. "By the way, do you have any idea how to get out of here?"
England blinked. "You what?"
"A. Way. Out," Austria enunciated.
"No, no, I mean…" England suddenly looked around frantically. "You didn't try to shoot us?"
Austria shook his head. "Why would I?"
"Oh dear," said Wales. "Then, if I didn't fire that shot, and Prussia didn't, and you didn't…"
Right on cue, another shot rang out.
England nodded. "Gentlemen, we have a conundrum…" Wales nudged him. "Oh. Gentlemen and lady. Sorry."
Thailand had gotten a good laugh out of Singapore's little incident in the freezer. "Ana~, Victor, you're so funny," he guffawed, slapping his friend's back heartily. When he drew his hand away bits of ice were clinging to it. "Look, you got freezer burn! Ahahahahahaha!" Singapore tried his best to glare at him.
So did Malaysia. "Please, we don't laugh at others' misery," he chided, wrapping a blanket around Singapore. "Victor, do you want to have a bath? That might warm you up faster."
"S-su-sure," the Singaporean stammered.
"Wow, it's almost as bad as the time he got trapped in Snow City," Myanmar mused. "I guess Victor really is the tropical type."
"Like a plant~" Thailand added, and was immediately punched in the back by Vietnam as she arrived on the scene.
"What's this? Making fun of people again?" she said. Then she saw Singapore. "Victor! What happened?"
"Apparently," said Myanmar, "he stayed in the freezer for nearly half an hour because he didn't know he could open the door from the inside even without a handle."
"Oh." Vietnam paused. Then she started laughing too. "Again?"
"I know, right?" Thailand giggled.
Myanmar and Malaysia threw them a dirty look. No wonder those two got along so well.
"You know," said China, as he slurped his noodles, "someone should tell a joke or something aru. Why is it so quiet in here?" He glanced at Japan. Japan looked at Taiwan. Taiwan turned to the Korea brothers. North Korea looked back at China.
"I'll go!" South Korea volunteered. "Let's see… Oh, this one's pretty good. Well, there were these two men—"
"No, no. Stop," said Japan, frantically shaking his head.
China stared for a moment. Then he smiled. "That was pretty good aru."
That last one is a true story. Happened in our chemistry class XD
Bahrain: ah, as discreet as ever. Even Canada doesn't recognize him.
El Salvador (Ramón de Alvarado): Meh, I dunno. I guess my impression of him is that he's always grumpy.
Maya: Mexico's little-known sister, the descendant of the Maya civilization. Appears to be the same age as him. Goodness knows where she is, but she sure isn't at the paella picnic with the others…
Paraguay and Uruguay: cookies to those who can guess correctly the two people Paraguay and Uruguay's speech emulates. Hint: they're characters that France might know quite well. And, while P and U might not resemble each other in the slightest (Uruguay is white while Paraguay is a mestizo), the characters they speak like look practically identical except for their mustaches.
As a side note, why does Paraguay deliberately choose words that don't even contain the P sound? Phooey.
Brazil (João Santos Silva Fernandez Capibaribe): His first name, by the way, is pronounced something like "John" or "Jean". Plug it into Google Translate and click "Listen". With the squiggly a or else it won't work. About 18? Recently hit a growth spurt due to the improvement in his HDI.
Portugal (Estefânia Silva Fernandez): To quote America: "Ahhh! Kowai! Kowai yo! Wohohohoho! (Protect me, Japan!)" Appears a little past her prime due to the stress of raising her children. Her lousy economy keeps her bedridden for weeks at a time. Probably a nymphomaniac—with that many kids, what do you think? Especially protective of her beloved Brazil (none of her other kids would ever get away with that cutesy act he put on) because she's afraid he'll turn Spanish like the rest of his continent.
Indonesia: Apparently Himaruya has a character design for her? Or is it a him? It (the design) has long hair but is kinda androgynous.
Apparently Chile isn't afraid to slap people. But that could be because Uruguay is annoying. And his name sounds like "turtle" in Chinese. Hence, the Kung Fu Panda reference: Master Oogway/Uruguay… Ugh, that was the worst one I've ever come up with. Sorry. x.x
Poor Austria/England/Wales/Prussia.
Snow City is a fun place in Singapore where they artificially create snow. I went there once. Experienced frostbite for the first time in my (then) eight-year-old life...
Thanks for reading! Until next time!