America feigned listening to the presenter (Whose name he couldn't honestly remember. Was it Slovakia?). His mind was a million miles away as he mindlessly tapped his pencil against the table. Somewhere nearby, England huffed in annoyance. America knew the old man probably figured he was being obnoxious on purpose, but America wasn't even aware he'd been doing it until he heard England huff.

America wanted to sigh, but he couldn't. He knew England was going to say something, interrupting Slavonia? (America still couldn't remember who it was), and everybody would expect America to act like an idiot and come up with some stupid retort. Then the meeting would go to Hell from there.

Honestly, acting so idiotic was exhausting, but America had no choice. He had to distract them from his biggest secret, which was only known by five other living nations besides himself. And the only way to distract them when he was on the center of the world stage was to act as stupid and clueless as possible. Very few people knew that America was actually deadly smart and extremely observant. Most importantly, he never forgot.

Luckily, just as England was about to open his mouth, somebody's phone went off. Immediately, everybody's attention turned to America. Even the speaker (Sicily?) stopped his presentation on "Global Warming: It's Negative Effect on Vineyards" and was now staring at America. Germany was glaring at him. "What have I said about phone use in meetings? This in the fifth time this month. I wa-"

"Actually Germany-san," Japan interrupted as he pulled out his cell phone, "it's mine." He hit accept and brought the phone to his ear. "H-Hello? Who is- Indiana-kun? Why are you calling me?" He took the phone away from his ear and handed it across the table to America. "It is for you, America-san. Indiana-kun says it is an emergency and he cannot get a hold of your phone because it is turned off."

America collected himself as he took the phone from Japan. He was planning a thousand ways to kill Indiana. Of all the times to call. "This better be good Indiana or so help me God-"

"It's an actual emergency, Dad. I swear!" Indiana wailed.

"Don't yell!" America scolded. "I'm right here. What is this 'emergency?' It better not be you telling me that you think Ohio is on drugs again. I won't bail you out next time she chases you up a tree."

"It's not that!" he cried, sounding somewhat offended. "Though I still honestly think she is. It's- It's New York! He's blaring that god-awful screeching he calls music and claiming it's rock and roll. I think it's actually bad heavy metal or Florida-Georgia Line, I'm not sure. But Kentucky, West Virginia, and Tennessee retaliated and are now blaring a combination of bluegrass, gospel, Elvis, and Johnny Cash. And California went to go get her Justin Bieber CD. Oklahoma's screaming her head off, Nebraska brought pigs into the house again, Wisconsin's badger is attacking Minnesota, Michigan and Ohio are fighting, Alabama is causing general chaos, Oregon's missing. You gotta come home or we're all gonna die!"

America sighed, rubbed his temples, and mentally counted to ten. Finally, he answered. "I go away to a meeting in Canada for one stinking day and World War III breaks out in the house. You're all dead. Spread the word."

Indiana yelped before the line went dead. He handed Japan's phone back and started packing up his briefcase without a word. England spoke up. "Just where the bloody hell do you think you're going."

"Home." America replied through gritted teeth. "Something came up and I'm needed back in Washington."

He left without another word, leaving 195 stunned countries in his wake.


When America pulled into the driveway of his home, the music war was still going on. Justin Bieber was blaring from one side of the house, with an off-key female voice singing as loud as she could (that would be California). From the other side of the house, bluegrass was drowning out several other genres. Kentucky and Alabama were playing the banjo and Tennessee and New York were playing the guitar. Ohio and West Virginia were outside singing (screaming) "Chattahoochee" by Alan Jackson at the top of their lungs. And New Jersey, New Mexico, and Arizona had taken pots and pans from the kitchen and were on the roof banging them together, trying to make as much noise.

Oh, but the chaos didn't end there. There were goats, pigs, lambs, and calves running across the yard, being chased by Iowa, the Dakotas, Nebraska, Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado. Michigan and New Hampshire were arguing over how to get the truck running again. Vermont was taping propaganda flyers for his syrup war against Canada all over the yard. Washington, Idaho, and Oregon were having a paint ball war and the house was splattered with bright blue, pink, and green paint. Maine and Missouri were in a fist fight. Mississippi, Florida, Alaska, Hawaii, Utah, Nevada, and Louisiana were spraying each other with the garden hose. Wisconsin was trying to pry her badger, Madison, off of Minnesota and Illinois was trying to rescue Indiana from her cardinal, Springfield. And Arkansas and Kansas were trying to restrain Oklahoma, who had gone into her Fight-or-Flight instinct from all the noise and was screaming at the top her lungs and fighting to get free. All the while, Delaware, Pennsylvania, Virginia, North Carolina, Connecticut, Maryland, and Georgia were running around trying to end the chaos, meanwhile South Carolina, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Texas were sitting in lawn chairs, drinking beer and watching the chaos unfold.

America took a deep breath, rubbed his temples, and counted down to ten, trying to keep his cool. He was on five when Oregon punched Washington, causing the younger state to accidentally fire his paintball gun. It hit America square in the chest, dyeing his white dress shirt and red tie bright, neon blue. Washington stopped mid-punch before his fist came in contact with Oregon's face and stared at his father, his icy blue eyes wide with shock and realization. "Oh shit."


Time stood still as everything stopped. The yelling, the screaming, the banging, and the music all died down as fifty pairs of eyes gazed dumbfounded at America. It was Pennsylvania who broke the silence. Her long, brunette hair was coming out of its braid and her white, Amish style apron was splattered with mud, paint, and grass stains. "Daddy! You're home early. We weren't expecting you for another five hours."

"Well, when Indiana and tells me everything is out of control, and that one of you is missing, I tend to be concerned." America replied, his voice cool with calm anger. He turned to Washington and Idaho. "I see you two found Oregon. That's one less thing I have to worry about."

"Yeah…" Washington said. "He just went on a bike ride and forgot to tell anyone. Uh, you okay Dad? Your eye's twitching funny."

America clenched his hand into a fist and huffed. "Yes, Washington, I'm I want all of you in the house."

"But Dad!" Nebraska cried. "The animals! They need to be-"

"Now!" America snarled.

Wyoming cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, Dad. You might-"

"Ve~ Germany," the voice of Italy said from behind America, "who are all these people and why is America yelling at them?"


I know. Another "Nations meet States" cliche, but I'm going to try not to make this chaotic like a lot of those stories end up. Obviously the states are my OCs and I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters. Bonus points if you can guess the speaker at the beginning of the chapter is (hint: it's my favorite OC). Don't worry about the state's appearances and etc. They'll be formally introduced later.