Saturday Story: Planning To Fail
Brought to you by: Zeie
Pairing/Character: Several characters. No pairings.
A/N: Fake zombies, discussion of zombie plans, and a frustrated England. Not really a story to be taken seriously.
...I had fun writing this.
~Zeie
xXx
"Hey England."
England looked up from his book, groaning when he saw America approaching him with a grin on his face. Oh dear, what did the idiot American want now?
America stopped in front of him, and England could literally feel the laughter that Al was holding back as he spoke. He knew he was going to be the victim of some kind of prank or joke. "I just realized something. And I figured you would want to know."
The Brit narrowed his eyes suspiciously, taking a sip from his cup of Earl Grey. "Okay... Just tell me, git."
"Nobody likes you."
"Wha- What are you talking about, everybody likes me!" England argued, though he knew it was far from the truth. He didn't really have many friends. Though he wasn't sure why, he would be friends with himself if he were them, he thought.
America shook his head, smirking. It was apparent that he was enjoying this. "Nah, everybody hates you. You don't fit in." Not that he had room to talk... None of the Allies liked America very much. Then again none of the Allies liked each other very much.
"Oh? I think I fit in just fine!" England snapped, setting his tea down on the table next to his chair and crossing his arms.
"Really?"
"Yes."
America rolled his eyes, as if he were arguing with a child over an indisputable fact. As if England were trying to convince him that the sky was orange. "Then answer this, England. What's your zombie plan?"
"M-My what?" England asked, confused. Zombies? Zombies weren't real! But of course America would bring something like this into the conversation. The American had been obsessed with the things for a while now. It must have been all those new zombie movies that he'd been making recently.
"There's two kinds of people in the world, England." America sighed, "Those who have a plan prepared for when the zombies take over the Earth," He pointed at himself, "and those who don't." He pointed at England. "We call those last people 'DINNER'."
"Nobody does that, bloody American git!" England snapped, standing up. "That's ridiculous! Zombies aren't real! They're a figment of your imagination, which has been corrupted by those idiotic films you watch!"
America ignored him, going on. "In my zombie plan, I'm going to Alaska. Zombies have no body heat, so they'll freeze like corpsicles! It's brilliant!" He laughed.
"No one else thinks about stuff like-"
England was interrupted as America turned around and called for France. "Yo France!" He shouted. The Frenchman opened the door, peeking inside. "Yes, Amerique?"
"What's your zombie plan, dude?"
England chuckled inwardly, waiting for the Frenchman to give the younger country a similar lecture. Of course even Francis isn't dumb enough to have a-
"I have two weeks worth of food in mon attic. I climb up and pull the ladder up with me~"
"WHAT?" England sputtered, glaring at France with shock and disgust. And there went the last scrap of respect he'd had for that bloody frog!
America tilted his head, "And what happens after the two weeks?" He asked calmly, as if it were an intelligent, everyday conversation. Meanwhile England was still trying to wrap his head around this. Was he dreaming, or were his fellow nations really this stupid?
France winked, smirking. "That's for me to know. I don't want to risk you two turning into zombies and knowing what I'm up to." He purred, "So are you still planning to go to Alaska when the time comes?"
"Oh come on!" England groaned.
Ignoring the unbeliever, America grinned, giving France a thumbs up. "You know it!"
Sighing, the Frenchman shook his head. "You'll never make it, Amerique. The major freeways will be choked with stalled cars, you won't even make it through all the traffic."
"I'm just gonna have to take that risk!" America sighed, then smiled confidently again. "Besides, I'm the hero! I can survive anything!"
France smiled fondly at the American. "Good luck to you, Amerique."
"Good luck to you too, dude!"
"Are you two bloody insane?" England shouted, though no one seemed to be paying attention to him anymore. It was then that Russia showed up out of nowhere, holding a pipe. England would have suspected that he'd just materialized out of nowhere, but he was standing near an open window, so it was possible that he had entered through there.
"Privet!" He greeted cheerfully, "What's with all the noise?"
Despite how creepy the situation was, (as it always was when the Russian was around) England turned to ask him a question. "Hey Russia, do you have a quote unquote, 'zombie plan'?"
Russia blinked innocently. "A zombie plan? Of course not."
England smirked, looking smugly at America. "See, I told you-"
"I have 37 different zombie plans~"
America's eyes widened, "Wow, Russia. Dude, you're totally prepared for the zombie apolocolypse!"
Russia smiled, tilting his head. "Don't be impressed, America. In 36 of those plans I use your fresh corpse as bait so that I can make my initial escape from the legions of the undead."
"Well at least I know there's one plan where-"
"And in the 37th plan, I knowingly infect myself with the zombie virus just so that I can devour you." Russia added, still smiling in that creepily innocent way of his. Obviously the prospect of plan #37 didn't bother him much. And that was disturbing.
England sighed, "Russia, you've got to be joking..."
"Why do you think I carry a pipe with me all the time?" Russia asked, "You've got to be ready to act on a moment's notice, da?"
England facepalmed, "You guys, I really don't think... Wait. What's that?"
He had been interrupted again by some ominous moaning sounds from outside. Everyone walked over to the window to see the zombiefied Axis walking towards the house.
Russia smiled, seeming to be happy about this turn of events. "It seems the Axis has been infected, da?"
"If anyone needs me, I'll be in the attic!" France said, quickly running off to hide.
America grinned, "Hahaha! Looks like the hero will have to jack a car and head to Alaska!" He then proceeded to jump out the window and start running ot the nearest car.
Russia blinked, "Wait, America! I need your delicious meat for most of my plans~" But the American was already gone. He turned to England. "Hm... England? Would you like to help me with something?"
"No thank you."
Meanwhile outside the house, the Axis were pretending to be zombies. They had used costume makeup to make their skin look sickly and zombified, tore their clothes, used fake blood, etc. Japan stopped making zombie noises to whisper to Germany. "Hey Germany, how long to we have to keep up this zombie act?"
"Wait until they all go into hiding, then plant the bomb inside the house and run..." Germany whispered back, then continued stumbling about like an undead, looking for brains to devour. Just like a cliche zombie movie.
"Brian... I want Brian..."
Japan wanted to facepalm. "Italy, it's 'brain' not 'Brian'."
"Oops! Sorry~ Must've read the script wrong!"
Germany sighed, "Gott verdammt, Italy..."