"Big brother."

Russia was in his office when he heard that dreaded sound. The room was filled with a purple aura. The temperature suddenly fell. Russia sighed.

"Come in, Belarus."

Belarus opened the door. "Are you sure, brother? Normally you would chase me out or hide to avoid me. Are you sure?"

"Da. I'm sure. What do you want?"

"Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me."

Normally, Russia hated hearing those two words coming from Belarus's mouth. He would either kol or run away. But this time, Russia was going to act like a man. FOR MOTHER RUSSIA!

"Fine. I accept your proposal." said Russia.

Belarus was shocked and worried. She puts her hand onto Russia's forehead.

"Brother. Are you feeling alright? Are you not sick anywhere?"

"Nyet. I am okay. I will take your hand in marriage. Horosho?"

"Ya nye znayu."

There was a new feeling that invaded Belarus. Scared? Being scared? Now why would she be scared? Mikhail Gorbachyev disbanded the Soviet Union back in 1991. Belarus gained her independence. It has been a dream since 1991 to become one with Brother Russia. No. Belarus was supposed to be feeling happy. Joyful that Brother Russia has agreed to her marriage proposal. Russia did not expect what happened next. Belarus fled from Russia's office.

Russia. You are cleverer than Zhukov.

Belarus wandered the streets of Moscow. She needed to reprocess what has happened. As she walked across the city of Moscow, Belarus thought to herself. Why had Russia comply with her command? Maybe it was because he was tired of her annoying him, distracting his plans for the world to become one with Mother Russia. Yes. It was that. Maybe she should move on. Her feelings towards Russia were empty. She needed to harbour feelings for. No. She was Belarus. The cold hearted Eastern Slav who all men feared. She can like no man. She can only make them fear her. Belarus decided to pick another victim. She had one man in her mind and immediately took the next flight to that man's residence.

Knock Knock

England looked up from his book. England wasn't expecting any guests tonight. Scotland was probably at a pub, drunk. Wales was doing GOD KNOWS WHAT with his sheep. Northern Ireland was at that rebellious Catholic bastard's house.

Suddenly, a dark aura filled the room. It felt much cooler. England shivered.

"What in the name of the Queen is going on?" inquired a rather scared England.

"Oh Britain…."

England gulped. He knew that voice. It belonged to one of Russia's sacred sisters. Why would Belarus be lurking around his house?

"Oh Britain… You know how I have lusted over you. Now. Britain. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me." chanted Belarus.

"AMERICA. SCOTLAND. WALES? NORTHERN IRELAND? BLOODY IRELAND. SOMEONE HELP!" England screamed, "Oh, and for the record, Britain is Scotland, Wales and me. So the correct name would be England."

Belarus rolled her eyes.

"Oh Britain. Why are you shouting? It would be no fun if you shout," said Belarus in a seductive voice, "Oh Britain. Do you want to play the rape game?"

"NO!"

"That's the spirit."