Sometimes it was just too much. Sometimes she just couldn't take it anymore. She tried to ignore them, she really did. She tried to just focus on her hamburger, which was delicious by the way, and ignore what she knew they were saying about her and the British girl sitting next to her, calmly sipping tea. God, why were people so nosy?! Why did they have to go around making assumptions and insinuating things and honestly she'd had just about enough!

She stood up. The personification of England looked at her in surprise. "What are you-"

"Sorry, Iggy," she interrupted. "I know you raised me better than this, but I have got to put an end to this before I go nuts." She said it loudly, wanting everyone to hear.

Most of the other nations around them paused their conversations and were glancing over at them with blatant curiosity. Hungary looked especially interested.

America felt a flash of resentment. No one ever paid this much attention to her during meetings, and she had great ideas! Of course she did. She was the hero! She leapt up onto the table, and glared around the room. By this point, everyone was watching her in silent anticipation. Even Italy had shut up about pasta for once.

She cleared her throat, and began, her loud voice clear and steady. "Ya'll think that we don't know what ya'll say about us, but we do. We just figured it'd blow over eventually, but it hasn't. And frankly, I'm sick of it. Like, seriously people, do I have to spell it out for you? 'Cuz I will. I'll tell ya'll right now that I am not, never have been, and will definitely never be in love with England!"

The room exploded with sound. Nations laughing shouting, arguing, and knocking over chairs as they jumped up in their excitement. America surveyed the room, taking in the many reactions her statement had triggered. A few seemed rather disappointed, like Denmark who was reluctantly handing over what looked suspiciously like some type of currency to Finland, who was beaming. Some looked triumphant like China, who had a smirk on her face like she'd known all along. Some just seemed confused, like Italy, who was tugging on Germany's shirt with a questioning look on her face. Or France, who had an oddly blank look on her face like she couldn't quite process what she'd just heard.

America frowned. The chaos didn't seem to be settling down and she was getting impatient. She still had more to say so she raised her voice and shouted, "Hey!"

No one even looked at her.

She tried again.

Nope.

She stomped her foot on the table as hard as she could.

She might as well have been Canada for all the notice she got.

She glanced down at England, who was still calmly sipping her tea, for help. The older woman raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'What? You brought this upon yourself so don't expect me to deal with it. You're the one who wanted your independence, remember?'

America pouted, but England seemed unaffected. Fine.

America hopped off the table and picked it up. Then she threw it across the room. It hit the wall hard, leaving a dent and smashing into about a hundred pieces. Oops. Good thing she was hosting this meeting, otherwise she'd be in a LOT of trouble with her boss when he received yet another bill for property damage from an irate world leader.

At any rate, she had gotten everyone to shut up. She grinned. "Now, as I was saying, Iggy and I are not a couple. That would be weird and, like, super gross because she's practically my mom. Well, sort of because she'd be a terrible mother-"

"I would not, you bloody git!"

"Oh please, you left me alone all the time when I was little, and you get drunk at least four times a week! That's, like, the definition of a terrible mother."

One of the other countries, possibly Prussia shouted, "And don't forget, her mouth is almost as bad as Romano's!"

Someone else added, "She yells a lot too. And hits people!"

"She can't cook either!"

"How about the fact she talks to imaginary creatures that no one else can see?"

"Canada is not imaginary!"

"I meant the fairies, you idiot!"

England suddenly stood up and shouted, "Will you wankers shut up?! I would not a terrible mother! And my cooking is not that bad-"

Everyone made noises of disagreement. England's face flushed with anger. "Sod off! You people just can't appreciate good food. I'll have you know that my fairy friends, who are NOT imaginary, love my cooking!"

"That's how we know they must be imaginary."

The room exploded into chaos again. This time England threw herself into the fray, screeching bloody murder as she attempted to do just that to the country who'd made the last comment.

America couldn't see who it was because there were too many people—possibly trying to pull England back—in the way. More fights were also breaking out in other parts of the room as arguments escalated and tempers flared up. It was practically World War III. As the hero, she knew she should do something, but there was too much going on and she wasn't sure how to help. She was just about to pick up another table when a gun shot rang out, instantly silencing the din. Italy hid behind Germany. The Baltic Trio and Poland were trembling under a table. Most countries, however, just looked unaffected. Huh, and everyone always picked on her for not taking guns seriously enough.

Switzerland stood on a table holding up her still smoking gun. She had aimed at the ceiling and America could see the shiny bullet embedded there. Oh no, how was she going to explain that to the President later?! How did Switzerland even manage to sneak that gun past airport security?! Why did almost every meeting end like this?!

"Are we done here?" Switzerland asked calmly.

Several people nodded or murmured in assent. America wanted to protest—she was NOT done at all actually—but her sister Canada gave her a pleading look, which stopped her only because she began wondering how long Canada had been there.

As Switzerland hopped off the table, Germany seemed to recover and said, in a firm voice that left no room for argument, "I think it would be best to get back to the actual meeting now."

Reluctantly, the countries agreed and began filing out of the cafeteria and back to the room where their meeting was being held. Japan had to wake up her friend Greece who had somehow managed to sleep through it all.

Soon the only ones left were America, Canada, England, and France.

"Well, cheri, that didn't go as planned, oui?" France commented while attempting to wrap an arm around England's waist. The Brit glared at her and moved swiftly out of reach, crossing her arms and muttering something that sounded like "stupid frog" under her breath.

"Yeah," America agreed. "Oh well, I'll just try again later. After all, I am the hero, and the hero never gives up!"


A/N: I wrote this forever ago but never published it. I'm not in this fandom anymore though, but I figured I might as well put it out there now. Don't take it too seriously. Enjoy!

Disclaimer (because it feels wrong not to): I don't own Hetalia in any way, shape, or form.