Somedays, Canada regretted going to world meetings. Today was definitely one of those days. Alas, skipping was not an option. It would be quite rude as he was the one hosting it this year. As the shouting and bickering grew louder and louder, Canada laid his head on the table, as the pulsing in his head became more and more painful.

"SILENCE!". Roared Germany. The entire room came to a halt. Attention now on him, he cleared his throat and continued, "Now if you would all resume your seats, we can continue with the meeting. Danke." The sound of seats scraping against the carpeted floor and the whispered conversations and arguments of all those present echoed throughout the room. As the meeting continued, Canada simply tuned it out, the arguments and statements by each of the countries becoming nothing more than faint background noise to Canada. Now he was bored. Almost on instinct, Canada's hand went into his pocket, retreating with his phone in hand. Pulling up the Google app, he typed Stanley Cup Playoffs, looking at the standings. The Ottawa Senators were tied with the Pittsburgh Penguins 3-3 in the Eastern Conference Finals. Shutting his phone off he put his head back on the table.

"Canada" 'What was that?' thought Canada.

"MATTHEW!" The shout came out. Canada's head whipped up. His eyes scanned the room until they fell upon his neighbour- America the source of the shout, and a great many headaches.

"You okay Mattie?"

"I'm fine Alfred. Just bored." sighed Canada. When was this meeting going to end?

"Fuck it, Im out. See you later" whispered Canada to his brother, as he got up and simply left. America simply nodded and turned back to the meeting. Oh the perks of being forgotten.

Canada exited the conference room and headed for the lounge, located down in the lobby of the hotel. The meeting had been long and draining, and the idea of a drink sounded nice right about now. He made his way through the bustling lobby, the noise of guests checking in and out blending into a pleasant hum in the background. Walking up to the bar, he found an empty seat and settled in, feeling the weight of the day begin to lift. Canada motioned to the bartender, who was busy mixing drinks but glanced his way with a nod. "One Bloody Caesar, please," he requested, his voice carrying a note of exhaustion. Within a minute, a glass of red medicine was in front of him, complete with a celery stick and salted rim.

Canada picked up the drink and took a slow, appreciative sip. The tangy flavor, with its mix of Clamato juice, vodka, hot sauce, and spices, was just what he needed. He savored the moment, letting the drink's warmth spread through him. As he continued to sip his Bloody Caesar, he took in the ambiance of the lounge. The soft, jazzy music playing in the background, the murmur of conversations from other patrons, and the clinking of glasses created a soothing, almost hypnotic atmosphere. He felt right at home here, and it wasn't just because he was still in Canada.

"-what was he thinking.." Canada's relaxing time was interrupted by the UK and Belgium. Because of course it was.

"Oh Hello Matthew" greeted UK.

"Hello Arthur"

"Here already? You didn't leave early did you?"

"I did. It's the same thing over and over again, so I saw no reason to stay. Plus, I'll go to the one tomorrow anyways, so I'll probably be caught up anyways."

Arthur could find no gap in his logic.

"Anybody sitting here?" he asked Matthew.

"No." With that confirmation, Arthur took a seat right next to him. Waving his goodbyes to Belgium, he turned to the Bartender- "scotch on the rocks please". The Bartender nodded and poured him a glass. Matthew, of all his former colonies, was probably the easiest to spend time with. More quiet and reserved, they could simply enjoy the other's company. The wild, and more outgoing nature of Australia, or the annoying and incessant yapping by America could get tiring. A good drink, a nice pub, and good company made for a good time. And Canada could provide all three.

"Whats up Birdie?" An obnoxious German accent called out. Matthew and Arthur turned around. Standing in front of them was Prussia. Fuck.

Canada put on a smile- "Hello Gilbert."

"Watcha doin'?"

"Drinking. With my father."

"So what are you drinking?"

"A Bloody Caesar. Which I will continue to do. When you leave."

"You wound me mein birdie."

Matthew didnt mean to come off so cold and flippant. He was exhausted and was only on his second bloody caesar for the evening. Happy hour had just started, and Matthew intended to take full advantage of it. Gilbert plopped himself on the other side of Matthew, and begun chatting away. Matthew simply went through the motions of paying attention. His words blurred together, blending in with the noise and music, and lips moving up and down. Until-

"Hockey is such a boring sport. Its unawesome!".

"What." came Matthew's response. Short, and to the point. Anybody else would have seen it as a warning to shut up or move on. But not Gilbert Beilschmidt. He simply continued on. Blind as a bat.

"You can't even see the puck, and its just a bunch of people skating around, like, whats the point? No strategy, no nothing."

"Wait what?" Replied Matthew incredulously. "Hockey is far from boring, and quite awesome actually. You not being able to track the puck sounds like a you problem. It's fast paced, and intense. Every second counts."

"Its just a bunch of dudes gliding around on ice, occasionally smashing into each other. Its repetitive and predictable. You want excitement? Watch a Bundesliga game. At least there you can see real athleticism and strategic play."

"Real athleticism? Seriously? The bundesliga is a money leage. Sure, players are skilled, but if FC Bayern-Munich can just buy up all the skilled players, how can any other team compete? Its even more boring and predictable."

Gilbert had no time to reply as the rest of the attendees of the world meeting had arrived. Arthur departed with a wave to Matthew, which he reciprocated. Almost as quickly as Arthur left, America took his place. "Sup Mattie."

"Hello Alfred. I was just explaining to Gilbert over here why Hockey, is the better sport than soccer."

"Which it isnt! And its called Football, not 'soccer'" Gilbert chirped.

"I'm with Mattie on this one. Hockey IS better than soccer. More skill, more fun to watch. Its just better."

Matthew's grin grew to shit-eating proportions.

Gilbert let out a long suffering sigh. "It doesn't. And I can prove it."

"How so?" asked Matthew. Now this he had to hear.

"I challenge you to a game of hockey."

Matthew's grin turned predatory.

"You got a deal. Since today is Monday, you have until Friday to gather a team. 12 people, and make sure they know how to play. Game will be at the Air Canada Centre. Be there for 12:30pm sharp. Don't be late."

Gilbert shook his hand almost immediately. It was on. America leaned back and groaned. This was not going to end well.

[A/N]: So, I remember seeing a Fanfiction a while ago about Prussia challenging Canada to a hockey match, so I decided to do my own take on it. So, this will probably have some similarities to that one. Credit to whoever wrote it.