Disclaimer first this time! We no own Hetalia! Damn..!
Kiwi- We uploaded as soon as we could. Yay!
Nonak- Yay! It's up! Thank you for all the viewings and I hope you like the story.
Kiwi- This time, REVIEW. *evil look* Oh, and yellowsubmarine gets a cookie! *gives cookie*
Onwards!
Chapter 1 - The Flight
The flight to America was a long, boring flight. All there was to do was stare out the window, listen to music, sleep, or talk to the other nations. Some nations had been asleep, while others were chatting.
At the beginning of the flight, we were told to pick out human names to go by. Twilight chose to go by Solar, America decided on Alfred, Germany on Ludwig, etcetera, etcetera. In the end I finally decided on Misha with the last name of Mordecai. Misha Mordecai was the human name I would go by at this 'Human American Public School.' It didn't really bother me so much about going to school, but I just knew things were not going to go well. I knew I was going have to beat the crap out of some punks for making fun of Twilight. Er, scratch that, making fun of Solar.
"Aaah! I wonder what American women look like?" France daydreamed. "Will zey all be natural beautiez zuch az myzelf? Or are zey going to be more beautiful zan mwah? I bet all American women have perfect figurez, too."
That reminded me..
I've heard that America has these 'famous celebrities'" I quoted with my fingers, "that are so skinny it's just not natural. They look like skeletons I hear."
France just stared at me.
"R-Really?" he asked. I nodded.
"I also heard that girls often get made fun of if they're not the right size, and that can lead to them not eating or even making themselves throw up just to lose weight." France gave me a horrified look.
"American girlz are dizguzting!" France said, looking as if he himself were going to be sick. "Tell me zomezing elze about American girlz!"
"I've also heard that some of them wear so much perfume and make-up they're like French whores."
France gasped.
"Zat'z a lot of make-up! And perfume, too! Too much, if you azk me!" he exclaimed.
"Hey! Nonak! You are really smart-a, ve~?" Italy, who was going by Feliciano, said. I just smiled when they all turned their attention to me.
"Tell uz zomezing elze you know!" France said excitedly.
"Um.. American public schools allow their students to wear whatever they want." France got a devilish grin.
"Whatever whatever?"
"Whatever within reason." I corrected quickly.
"Wizin reazon?"
"I mean, you can't come to school in your underwear, and you have to be fully clothed. In other words, you have to wear underwear, pants, a shirt, socks, and shoes."
"I can't go commando?"
"Definitely not!" I exclaimed with a blush. "Especially since P.E. is required."
"P… E..?"
"Physical Education."
"Ohonhon.. I don't need zat, ma cherie. I am perfectly educated on ze human body."
"But zey don't-" I stopped. His accent was rubbing off on me. The others slightly chuckled at me. "But they don't know that."
"I can zhow zem, zen."
"No you can't. You'll be expelled if you try that."
France was quiet for a moment.
"Anyway, moving on. I hear that there's also something called a 'dress code' that students have to follow. Something like not showing too much cleavage or 'no shorts that's this short' and stuff like that. Apparently American teenage boys think it's cool to wear their pants so low their underwear shows, and girls think it's okay to look like brainless sluts."
"How is shoving off your undervear cool?" Germany asked, puzzled. I shrugged.
"I dunno. They just think it is."
"Ze way Americanz zink iz weird.."
"Americans are just weird in general." I added. France nodded in agreement with me. I sighed. "Then of course, America also has the highest obesity rate in the world." France gasped in shock.
"Oh my! Zat'z zo zad!" I nodded and looked at my own body.
"Eeeeh.. I'll probably get teased a bit. But I'm a strong country. I can protect myself." I smiled in triumph at France and Germany. My body wasn't a twig, nor was it a branch. It was somewhere in between. The term I preferred was 'filled out': big chest area, not too skinny in the tummy (but not too big, either), child-bearing hips, and toned (but not ripped) muscles. A small ding caught my attention, forcing me out of my thoughts.
"This is your captain speaking. Thank you for flying with us today. We will be arriving at our destination in ten minutes. Please be prepared for landing." There was another small ding, and France jumped up, running to the bathroom.
Behind me, I heard Russia chanting 'kolkolkolkol' over and over. Suddenly, a loud yelp, followed by a crash and loud ripping noise was heard. We all turned and looked at the men's bathroom door. France, wearing nothing but his shirt and coat, walked out casually.
"Az fate would have it, the lavatory ate my pantz. Don't azk how!" he said, holding up a hand. "But now you get to zee my beautiful body in all it'z glory." France stood with some sort of a heroic pose. Twilight and I shared a look of disbelief.
The whole cabin face-palmed as Russia continued his 'kol'ing. That was our first official experience in America.
Kiwi- Well, looks like I didn't have to set France's pants on fire. The lavatory beat me to it. Damn.
Nonak- *looks at Kiwi* Aaaaanyway.. I hope you laughed, and I hope you continue to read it.
R&R!
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