Russia sat, bored.

And glared, slightly angrily. Well, it wouldn't make sense if he glared slightly happily would it?

…anyway. He glared.

Then picked up the phone.

And put it down again.

Then his face lit up (not literally. That would be painful…) and he picked it up again.

Typed some illegible numbers in.

Ring ring.

Ring ri-

"Hey France? I've had better."

He hung up, fast, laughing.

His laughing echoes throughout his massive house, causing the Baltics downstairs to start shivering in fear.

And somewhere in France, a blonde man puts down a phone, and puts his head in his hands, depressed.

Very depressed.


Review da?

...no prizes for guessing where flames go.