This one's a bit different, no obvious torture... Which is good, I think? And the song is Time to Waste, by Alkaline Trio.
You had time to waste and I'm not sorry,
"Gentlemen, a moment, if you please." A moment of silence, as the rest of the room turned to face the young man. "I would be honoured if you joined me for dinner tomorrow evening. I am finding the catering quite substandard, and, I'm sure, you all would agree with me on that point."
"It is the only point we can all agree on" came the bored reply. "But yes, I do believe that would be quite enjoyable, I rather think I'll take you up on that offer, Matthew, my boy." He smiled broadly, a slight edge of madness buried deep within it. "Perfect" he purred, before slinking out of the conference room, already making preparations.
Such a basket case, hide the cutlery.
"Maaaatt!" Oh dear god that whiny voice was irritating, but he'd put up with it for the moment. "Matt, you promised it be just us! That's not fair, going and inviting everyone else like that!" he sighed heavily, shaking his head some, fervently wishing that things would move faster simply to stop that incessant whining. "W-Well, it's rude to invite you and not everyone else. Anyway, it'll be fun; I haven't seen the others in such a long time." He offered his most brilliant smile at his guest, who sighed heavily and nodded. "If you say so Matt." The man mumbled despondently. A light laugh escaped his lips, "hey, how about I fix you some pancakes, to make up for it?" The taller blonde whooped with joy. "Awright! Mattie's pancakes!" Another slight chuckle fell from his mouth, deeper, more menacing this time. "I'm glad you're exited, my pancakes are to die for, after all."
I had time to kill, it's dead and buried.
"Tell me, comrade, what is in this? It is a meat I do not recognize." He laughed some, the memory of what had occurred the day before coming back oh so suddenly. "Well, Russia, my friend, if I told you that I'm afraid you'd quite refuse to try it." This got polite laughter all round, before one of the group spoke up. "'Tis quite a shame L'Amérique could not join us." He sighed somewhat, a small frown creasing his forehead, "Non, papa, I do not think that this is the sort of thing Alfred would enjoy, he has never been one to attend dinner parties." France hummed slightly before nodding in agreement, "you ar' right of course, Mon petit lapin.'E is rather boorish, I admit." A slight snort of disdain from the man sitting opposite, "Rather boorish?" he inquired, a certain measure of incredulity in his voice, "I believe you mean incredibly churlish, Francis, old chap." There was another round of laughter from the group. His smile had knife edges in it. "Eat up, do. I am eager to get to the main course, it's rather... Spectacular"
You've got guts to spill but no one trustworthy.
His guests were leaving, chatting amicably amongst themselves, "Russia" he called, the larger nation paused, turning back to face him. "Да, comrade?" A small chuckle escaped his lips; he beckoned the larger man back into his house.
"Tell me, Russia, can you live without a heart?"