Please don't ask.
Disclaimer: No.
"IGGY!"
"What—bloody hell, America!"
"Don't be so enthusiastic. Honhonhonhon…"
"Uh, hi Al…"
"MATTIE!"
"Ah! Al…can't…breathe…"
"Brotherly love is wonderful, is it not, mon cher?"
"Shut up, frog."
"Please…get…o-off…*wheeze*."
"Oops! Sorry, bro!"
"How I deal with you, I'll never know."
"Ah, you know you love me, Iggy! Say France, when's dinner?"
"Be patient, Amerique. It will be ready in due time."
"Oh, okay. So, what do you guys want to do while we're waiting?"
"Well, honhonhonhonhon…"
"B-Bloody frog! Stay away from me!"
"Hey, Mattie, why don't we play some football?"
"A-Ah…I'd rather not…"
"Oh. How 'bout baseball?"
"GET YOUR HAND OFF MY ARSE!"
"Now, now, mon cher, don't shoot me—don't point that there!"
"How about we…watch a movie?"
"That sounds great, Mattie! I brought the perfect movie over…"
"America, if this is another one of your horror movies, I swear I'll—"
"Don't worry, it's not too scary! Just the Silence of the Lambs!"
"HELL NO!"
"What?"
"I don't want you clinging to me or your brother five minutes in!"
"But…But…Iggy! You never let me do anything!"
"I-I agree with England."
"Not you, too, Canada!"
"Al, I—"
"Hey, I know! We could play video games!"
"Al, you always cheat at those…"
"Most certainly not, America! I refuse to sit down and play some of your mind numbing games—"
"I have Cooking Mama…"
"Wh-What does that have to do with anything?"
"And I know you love to cook…"
"A-Alright."
"Amerique, your room is a mess."
"Oh, gross, what am I stepping on?"
"I think that's the pizza from last month…"
"Ergh!"
"Or was it two years…?"
"Get me out of here! This is so unsanitary!"
"Do you want to play cooking mama or not?"
"Yes, but—"
"See, look? The mess is gone."
"You didn't have to toss it out the bloody window!"
"Al, what if you hit someone?"
"Don't worry, Mattie, I'm sure it hit nobody—"
"Scheiße! WHO HIT ME WITH THIS OLD STINKY PIZZA? SO NOT AWESOME!"
"Holy shit! When did Prussia get here? Hide!"
"!"
"…I think he's gone."
"America how stupid can you get?"
"Almost as stupid as you, mon cher."
"Hey!"
"Al, what games are we going to play?"
"LEFT 4 DEAD!"
"Stop shouting!"
"Like you're one to talk."
"Arguing like an old married couple."
"Shut up, frog!"
"Al, the game's in…"
"Oooooooo! I call being a survivor! Me an' Mattie can be survivors, right bro?"
"America, that would be 'Mattie and I'."
"Stupid grammar nazi."
"E-Excuse me?"
"I'll be a survivor, Al…"
"Great! You and France can be the infected!"
"It's—oh, never mind…My god, what a vulgar game."
"You're just mad because we're kicking your asses."
"Mathieu, I never knew you we so proficient with a machine gun."
"Heheh…"
"Hey, is it just me or is something burning?"
"Sacre bleu! The dinner!"
"What? Dinner's burning?"
"And he calls me a terrible cook!"
"That's 'cuz you are a terrible cook."
"Bloody wanker."
"Old man."
"Bugger off."
"Um…what?"
"Oh. I suppose that isn't in your pathetic excuse for the English language. If you must know, it means 'fu—"
"DINNER IS READY!"
"Yay! Dinner!"
"…Why do I even bother?"
"FRANCE! So dinner isn't burned?"
"Just a little, but it was only the dessert."
"W-What? That's even worse!"
"America—"
"No dessert! MUTINY!"
"Amerique, calm down! It is a simple matter to make another one!"
"Oh."
"You're crazy."
"No I'm not!"
"Yes, you're absolutely bonkers."
"I'm sorry, Al, you really are crazy."
"Yeah… well…it runs in the family!"
Too true.
That is all I have to say.
IceEckos12