Sorry the upload took so long - I've been struggling with current classes (all technically-minded, which I am not), and trying to work on updates for all my stories. Ch. 12 of "Territorial" is struggling with upload problems...I keep losing the format when I try to bring it here. "Cosplay Hetalia" is progressing slowly, but I should update in the next month or so. Sorry for the wait!

Shit. Verdammt. Merde. Maldita sea. чертвозьми Hu'tegh!

What was I supposed to do now? The idea of dealing with France had been perfectly fine when I'd had his manuel as a back-up plan. Now, all 498 pages (approximate guess) were laying in shreds on the carpeted floor, or making their way through my Newfoundland's digestive tract. IT CAN'T HELP ME FROM THERE!

Said Newfoundland whined and pinned his ears back, quite aware of his wrongdoing. Goddamn this bleeding heart, but I can't stay mad at him when he does that. I sighed and stared down at the papery mess. Now I had to clean that up….wonder if I could get a new one or something? Ignoring Canada and France (who were now both staring at me strangely - what? Did I say all that cursing out loud? Whoops) I moved across the living room and pulled down Canada's manuel from the mantle. Pack-ratish me hadn't thrown it out, even though Canada was sane enough that I wouldn't have ever used it. There, in the fine print of the front page! I just had to call customer service, and they'd send me a replacement manuel!

"Canada, please put Nunavut out on the balcony." I requested as I walked past them again to fetch my cell phone. I don't have a landline in the apartment, since there was never a need for one. I carried the cell everywhere. Canada nodded and extracted himself from France's (wandering) hug, tugging the shamefaced Newfoundland across the living room to the small, rectangular concrete balcony that came standard. I hadn't used it since moving in, so Nunavut would have no excuse not to think about what he'd done.

"France, you can put your stuff in the guest room…" I pointed vaguely down the hall, dialing with one hand. "And stay out of the closet across the hall." I could almost feel the Frenchman smirking behind my back, a rose appearing between those slim fingers.

"But why, ma cheri…?" He asked, trying to sound seductive. He did, but that's not the point. I had a lot of personal stuff in that closet that I hadn't unpacked yet - even though I've been here almost ten months - and I didn't want him going through them. But that answer wasn't nearly as much fun.

"Because I murdered my last roommate for annoying me too much and hid his body in there. It's starting to fall apart. Don't open the door, and you shouldn't smell him…much." Oh, if ONLY I'd been able to turn around to see the look on his face before he bolted down the hall. As it was, he slammed the door so fast, it rattled my chandelier. I really should make sure that thing is screwed in….

Four minutes of dialing and chasing automated message directions, I finally got connected to a live (living, that is) customer service person. An all-too cheery, live, customer service person.

"Hello, and thank you for calling the Flying Mint Bunny Express hotli-" I interrupted before I could get the whole salesperson spiel.

"My dog ate my manuel." There was a moment of silence.

"…..which model, ma'am?" She asked. Good. No beating around the bush.

"France." I replied. "No Medieval, no Revolution, just France."

"I see." I heard the sound of keyboard keys clicking. "May I have your name, please?" The woman asked.

"Rhoads….I've had two deliveries, already." I added on. No harm in covering all the bases.

"…aha, here you are. Your next delivery is already in stock. I can have Dan drop it off a little early. We can include the replacement manuel, as well." She offered. I sighed. I'd have to make up the air mattress…which my lazy self did NOT feel like doing. But I couldn't have a housemate (unintentional or not) sleeping on the floor.

"Sounds great! Thank you so much…" I replied. I could almost hear the woman smiling over the phone.

"Oh, no trouble, dearie. This kind of thing happens all the time." She told me. "Dan should drop of your new guest and replacement manuel by tomorrow evening. If not then, expect him the following morning." I smiled and leaned back in my chair.

"Thanks again." I hung up and dropped my phone on the table. Well, that was one problem taken care of. I still had to deal with Nunavut…but a few minutes more on the balcony should be enough. He didn't do well in Florida weather…even though it's been kind of chilly, lately. All that was left to do was get France settled…

...then again, Canada could handle that...

Anyone else having trouble with submission? Doc Manager totally ate my format...