And we're back with more Hetalia madness! I do hope you all enjoy this chap. And as usual...I don't own hetalia!
Our dear friends, Britain and France, were once again captured by the Axis countries. For some reason, they're female disguises didn't turn out so well. It seemed they were only capable of passing as women from afar. Now that they've been recaptured, Germany has decided to prep his men. We can't have those darn Allies escaping again, now can we?
"Alright, so far our captives have managed to make 2 failed escape attempts!" Germany scolded, while slowly pacing back and forth. Italy and Japan stood firmly before him. "Do you know vhat that means?"
"Oooh, oooh! I know! It means third time's a charm!" screeched Italy excitedly.
Germany's left eye twitched with annoyance, "No, you fool! That is exactly the reason I'm increasing your training!"
"But Germany, why do we have to increase the training? I barely want to complete the training at the current level," whimpered Italy. "Can't we just lie around like bumps on a log and eat pasta all day long!"
"Absolutely not!" shouted Germany with fury. "Gah, and speaking of bumps on a log, where's your idiot brother?"
"Uh….oh yeah! He's taking a siesta at Big Brother Spain's house! But don't worry, he'll be back eventually!"
Germany brought his hand to his temple, "I'll deal with him later. Japan, please tell me you have some good news?"
"Hai," said Japan with a nod, "I've switched the Iron bars in the prison with bars that should keep the captives secure. They won't escape this time."
"Really? Just what type of bars did you put in the cell?" asked Germany with curiosity.
And cue next scene where Britain conveniently answers this question!
"Lasers? Who the hell installs laser bars in a prison cell?!" shouted Britain ferociously.
"Apparently Japan does," France nonchalantly commented.
"This is absolutely insane! I can't take another second of this crazy nonsense!" shouted Britain, rushing towards the conveniently placed phone on the wall.
The power of convenience strikes again!
Britain waited for the other party to answer the phone.
"Hello?"
"America, you traitor! Get over here right now!" Britain shouted into the phone receiver. "How could you leave us here to suffer in such turmoil conditions?!"
"Britain, is that you?" asked America from the other line. "Hey man, how've ya been?"
"How have I been?! I've been through hell no thanks to you and those other imbeciles! Why haven't you come to save us yet?"
"Well we were on our way, but then Russia said he'd never gone to a baseball game before," he explained. "I couldn't let my dear friend go through life that way! So we went to a ball game."
"You left our lives in jeopardy just to watch a stupid baseball game! You good-for-nothing yankee!" screeched Britain.
"Hey, how'd you know we went to a Yankees game?!" Asked an excited America. "Then afterwards, we went to this sweet pier carnival."
"I won a Pucca doll! It is cutest thing ever!" exclaimed China from the background. "I will take it home and place it next to my Hello Kitty doll!"
"You are talking to Britain, da? Please tell him I said hi!" said Russia.
"Sure thing man!" America agreed. "Russia says hi."
"You wanker! I can't believe that after everything I've done for you, you abandoned me like this!" screamed Britain. "For crying out loud,I changed your filthy diapers!"
"….. Britain says hi back!"
"Now see here, you fraudulent mucker, you had better come and rescue us today or else!" shouted Britain with furry.
"Yeah, about that…. See, we kinda made plans to go to see Disney on Ice later," said America sheepishly.
"I don't care about your god-forsaken—" he suddenly stopped in mid sentence. "Did you say Disney on Ice? Will….will Tinkerbell be there?"
"Dude, it's not Disney without Tinkerbell! That chick is totally hot for a fairy!" said America suggestively.
Britain felt his blood boiling with rage, "don't talk about her like that! She's a very classy lady!"
"Don't worry, I'll upload the pics to facebook later on," said America.
"How many times do I have to tell you this?! We can't use facebook during the 1940's!" screeched Britain.
America laughed, "We also can't watch Disney on Ice in the 1940's but I refuse to let that stop me!"
"Where's the logic in this situation?!"
"Psh, I am America! I defy logic!" America tartly responded.
Britain banged his head up against the wall, "dear God, why?"
"Anyway, you guys just stay put! We'll swing by to pick you up later, kay?"
"I beg your pardon?!" Britain shouted with rage. "You will do no such thing! I said to get over here this instant and—"
"Huh? What's that?" said America, cutting him off. "Britain, I can barely hear you….you're breaking up!"
"But you sound fine on my end," Britain casually examined the phone cord to make sure it wasn't damaged. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah dude, I'm losing you. I'm, uh, going through a tunnel," he lied.
"You are not! This is a landline phone, imbecile! It's not portable!" Britain lashed out. "America? America?! Are you still there?! How dare you hang up on me?!"
Britain silently listened to the dial tone before angrily bashing the phone up against the wall.
"I'm assuming your call didn't go as you planned, mon ami," said France, patting Britain on the back. "No matter, I have already come up with another full proof plan!"
"You said you had a full proof plan last time! Yet, we were still captured!" Britain pointed out. "I had to stuff melons down my chest! Melons!"
"But it is a really good one this time!" France pouted.
"Oh alright, fine," said Britain rolling his eyes. "Let's hear it then."
France eyes instantly lit up, "Splendid! So zer is no way we can get past ze laser beams, oui? We simply get one of ze gaurds from outside ze cell to let us out."
"And just how are we going to do that?"
France opened up a random suitcase, "by disguising ourselves as some of Germany's soldiers!"
"That's the same as the last plan!" Britain snapped. "I refuse to put on another ridiculous disguise! It took me forever to scrap that foundation off my face! And I'm pretty sure I twisted my ankle running in those heels!"
France angrily crossed his arms across his chest, "Oh, and I suppose you have a better plan on getting out of here?"
"Ha, I think I've figured it out now!" said Britain moving towards the bars. "I'll bet Japan was just playing tricks on us! There's no way these bars are real lasers! They're probably just holograms!"
"Huh? Wait just a minute! What do you think you're doing?" asked France with alarm.
"I'm going to phase right through them!" Britain proudly proclaimed as he ran towards the bars.
"Sacre bleu!" shouted France as he latched onto him. "You cannot touch zose! Zey will cut you in half!"
"No, they're just holograms! Holograms, I tell you! They don't exist! The limit does not exist!" Britain shot back, reaching ever so closely towards the laser bars.
"Your brain doesn't exist! Now Get a hold off yourself, you son of a bitch!"
After much scuffling, France finally forced Britain to the ground and sat on top of him. Britain angrily kicked at the stone floor as he tried to squirm his way from out of France's grasp. His efforts, however, were all in vain.
"Get off of me! You're crushing my spine!" he wailed.
"No! You're going to get yourself killed! And you're no use to me dead!" said France, ripping off a piece of Britain's jacket.
"What are you doing?" asked Britain with alarm. "Are you trying to strip me again?!"
"Connard, I am demonstrating just how foolish you really are," said France with a scorn. He tossed the ripped fabric over towards the laser bars. Britain's eyes widened with terror as he watched it burn to a crisp.
He suddenly overpowered France and jumped to his feet, "I can't take this confinement anymore! I'm an Englishmen, damn it! I don't deserve such treatment!"
"Do you think I like it any better?" France whined. "It smells like a baboon's backside! And to top it off, I don't even have my strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner! Do you think I just achieve zis greatness over night? No, it takes hours and hours of maintenance and perfection!"
"Ugh, disgusting. I hate the smell of artificial strawberries. It always makes me…" Britain trailed off as he suddenly came to an interesting conclusion. "…..Sick to my stomach. That's it!"
France raised an eyebrow, "Eh? What's it?"
"We'll pretend to be sick!" Britain happily proclaimed. "They'll come in, see that we need treatment, and then transfer us to medical! We'll escape from there long before Germany even notices our absence! It's perfect!"
"You really think it will work?" asked France.
"Well it's worth a shot,"
"But I hate hospitals! They smell so dreary and institutionalized!" France complained, smoothing out his hair.
Britain frowned, "would you rather stay here and bask in the scent of a baboon's backside?!"
"Sickly I shall be!" France said, pulling a blow horn out of his pocket. "I suppose I could show off my supreme acting skills!"
"Is that really necessary?!" Britain baffled as he lay down on the floor.
"Ahem," France cleared his throat. "Oh, woe is me! I'm so terribly sick! I cannot take another breath or I fear I may die! Ze pain! Ze agony! Le cough cough!"
"….don't you think you're over doing it a bit, old chap?"
But France continued as he dramatically dropped to the floor, "ze walls…zey're closing in on me! Everything is starting to get dark! Oh me, oh my!"
"Stop that. You're behaving like a total nutburger," Britain whispered. "Much more than usual."
"Vhat's the matter now?!" Germany asked, coming down the hallway.
"Can't you tell? We are sick!" France answered. "Very sick!"
"Oh really?"
Britain coughed, "Indeed we are. We're are completely and 100% sick!"
Germany calmly folded his arms behind his back, "Oh please. Do you really expect me to believe such nonsense? Only an idiot vould believe something so stupid."
"Germany! Germany! I need help tying my shoe again!" Italy shouted as he raced to Germany's side. "Oh no! Big Brother France and Britain are sick! We should get them to a hospital, or just send them home. I like the second option the best!"
"Italy," sighed Germany, face-palming.
"So, are we gonna let them go now?" asked Italy with excitement.
"Of course not! They aren't really sick!" Germany snapped. "This is just another one of their hair-rising schemes."
France rolled over on his side, "but it isn't a scheme this time! We ate some of Britain's scones and now we're sick! Oh, the horror!"
"What?! That's not why we're—" Britain was immediately silence by a violent kick to the stomach from France.
"Britain's scones?!" asked Germany with alarm. "Maybe this is serious. Alright, you'll be moved to our medical center to receive treatment."
"You ate Britain's food?" said Italy with a quiver. "Why would you do that, Big Brother France! I know you're big and scary but I don't want you to die!"
"There is nothing wrong with my scones! They're delicious!" Britain scoffed.
Germany stroked his chin, "now they're becoming delusional. This is vorse than I thought. Quickly Italy, go und get some of my men so that ve may move them immediately. I don't vant them vomiting up that smuck."
"Okay, Germany!" squealed Italy with urgency. He immediately rushed down the hall.
To be continued in the next chapter. See you there!