The next few days were a blur of activity. My men arranging all the necessary war essentials, the regular meetings with the Axis Powers at the U.N., and finally the trip to Europe to meet the other allies on my side.
It was a cloudy day in London when we arrived. We all agreed that the capital of England was a good and relatively safe place to meet up. Canada and I arrived at England's mansion and rang the doorbell. I heard very faint piano music coming from somewhere in the house. A very relaxed looking France answered the door.
"Ah, welcome my friends! Come in!" he ushered us in and led us to the sitting room where a few countries were already waiting for us.
"America! Canada! You made it, aru!" I was expecting a lot of things, but China wasn't one of them. . . neither was Greece. . . or Austria. . .
Greece gave me a nod but he wasn't really paying attention. He was focused on the cats on his lap, on the couch he was sitting on, and on the floor near his feet. The piano music I heard earlier was Austria going into his own little world where nothing existed but him and his music.
England walked into the room with the Axis powers. He appeared to be having a very heated discussion with Germany, which stopped as soon as they noticed that I had arrived. The others took seats and the meeting began, I had the feeling we were missing someone but I couldn't figure out who. I couldn't figure out who it was until I heard a crash that came from the back of the house, that is. Nearly everybody jumped and then froze.
"The stupid git. He's probably dead." England and I shot up at the same time and rushed to go see what the source of the crash was. "He's dead. I have a dead body in my damn house." England kept muttering.
We burst through the door of what looked to be one of the bedrooms. There was dust everywhere and the occasional shingle would fall to the ground in front of us. I looked up to see a huge hole in the roof. England bent down next to a particularly large pile of debris. He had absolutely no warning whatsoever before a person jumped out of the pile and tackled him, accidentally whacking him in the face with a bottle in the process.
"VODKAAAAAA!" So he wasn't dead after all. I went to go help England up and was pulled down as well. I was face to face with the man himself.
"You vant to be one vith mother Russia, da?" the Russian asked me.
"Nyet."