IN THE DEPTHS OF COUNTRY HELL...
Canada was confused. Why was he dead? (Oh, right, Russia.) Why was he in Country Hell? (Oh, right, he was Canada.)
'Hello, Canada,' Country Satan said. 'Wait, why the Country Hell are YOU doing here?' He flipped through his notes. 'Oh, Russia, eh? I actually expected you two to have AWESOME BUTTSECKS! But that's just me.'
Canada was still confused.
'You must be confused,' Country Satan went on. 'You must be wondering, why am I in Country Hell? Surely I belong in Country Heaven. But that's right, I'm worthless and evil in the Country Lord's eye, even though I didn't do anything wrong! WHY COUNTRY GOD, WHY? I DON'T DESERVE THIS FATE! TAKE ME BACK! I PROMISE TO BE BETTER THIS TIME! GOD, I HATE YOU SO MUCH!' Country Satan wept.
Canada gaped at him.
'But anyway,' Country Satan said, regaining his composure, 'I'm here to say that you're being sent back! You must be ANGRY at that piece of shit America! I can't blame you, really. He's a fuckin' douchebag. All I ask in return is America's suffering, comprende?'
Canada nodded, still confused. Why was Country Satan speaking Spanish? UNLESS...
'Spain?' Canada said.
Country Satan sighed. 'Do you even KNOW how many countries ask me that? I'M NOT SPAIN! I MAY SPEAK SPANISH, BUT I'M NOT SPAIN! I BET YOU DON'T EVEN REALIZE THERE ARE OTHER SPANISH-SPEAKING NATIONS OUT THERE! Fuckin' MORONS!'
And then Canada was not dead. It was weird after being dead for so long.
But what was it that not-Spain guy said? (Oh right, torture of America. Should be easy enough.)
So Canada sat down in his house with his stupid bear thing (Kumakuma or some weird shit, IDC) and began to plot America's DOOM.