Don't Give Canadians Alcohol

UnluckyWriter: Uh…yeah. I was in the Hetalia fanfiction thing, and I noticed that a lot of fanfics was about England's birthday today! And since Iggy-Kun is one of my favorite characters of allllllll time, I dedicate this to him! Mattie's an AWESOME bonus! He deserves more love!

This fic was inspired by an chat with my friend and a Canadian stranger, and I acted BRITISH! I pulled it off quite nicely too, with the slang and stuff! XD Plus, I also wrote this in ONE day! So don't hate too much of the suckiness of this fic! –Gets Shot-

Enjoy! And Happy Birthday Artie!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did, there would be more yaoi.

Pairings: slight USUK? (I heart this pairing.) And…Canada/England? Or maybe Russia/Canada? Squint if you will! Cause even though I wrote this, I don't know what's going on! XD


"America is more awesome than England! Admit it!"

"Why should I admit an untruth, you bloody git?"

"Cuz it is true! Or are you finally going senile, old man?"

"It's because, not bloody cuz! Get your prefixes in order, you insolent brat! And don't call me a senile old man! I didn't raise you up to be such a rude wanker!"

It was a normal, nice and sunny day for the nations to hold a world meeting…well, as in 'normal', it is meant 'insane' for the nations are truly not normal like regular citizens, but even their bouts of insanity are considered completely normal for everyday life.

But today was a 'little' too normal. As stated in the above passage, the 'normal' is clearly meant as 'insane'.

As usual, Germany was futilely trying to bring order to the meeting, France was being his usual perverted self (Yes, trying to tell North Italy that deflowering was a type of beautiful flower that only bloomed when involving in the act of baring one's flesh for France is indeed, perverted.), Russia was busy intimidating the three Baltic States, China was pleading for someone to eat his snacks, and England and America was building the sexual tension up even more with their continuous fighting.

Yes, everything was the same as per usual, but then America decided to change one, minor variable.

"Canada!" America exploded, shocking his own brother and various other nations as he pointed at the Canadian.

Has anyone even noticed that Canada was there? Or, better yet, has anyone ever single out the transparent nation and addressed him head on? No. This was a first. A memorable first. And by America of all people. Yes, definitely a memorable first.

"Y-yes?" Matthew squeaked quietly, surprised that he was finally noticed. 'Maybe they'll finally notice me from here on out and actually listen to my problems and presentations,' the northern continent mused optimistically.

His hopes were shot down like Switzerland aiming at Allied and Axis Planes during the war.

"Who's more awesome? Me or England?" America asked heatedly, ignoring the bushy-eye browed nations scoffs of, "It's 'England or I'! Stupid git, defiling the Queen's English like that…" "Come on Mattie! Since you're my bro and all, you totally know how awesome I am, right? Tell the old man how awesome I am!"

England proceeded to roll his eyes in a very sarcastic manner, but his interest in the Canadian's opinion was piqued as well as the other straggling nations.

"Well…" Canada began unsurely, looking down at his polar bear's furry head.

"Well…?" Alfred prompted, eyes glistening brightly as he waited for his brother's totally awesome answer.

The answer turned out to not be totally awesome.

"I-er- well, I think…England is awesome. More so than America," the Canadian stated, face flushing a light pink. Of all conversations, this was the useless one yet! Why can't he ever be singled out to talk about how America's pollution was being blown by the winds onto his land instead?

Complete silence in the room.

"WHAT?" America screeched in a manly way as England threw his head back and laughed loudly. "No! Mattie! That's a lie!"

"Why would he tell a lie to you, Alfred?" England grinned. "As we can all see now, I am obviously the awesome one."

"It's probably the stupid accent!" Alfred snarled. "It's so freaking hot, it hypnotizes people! That accent is EVIL. Pure evil! If you Brits didn't have a freaking hot accent, Mattie wouldn't have said that England was more awesome!"

England blinked. "You called my accent hot. Twice now. Is there something you should be telling me, America?" The gentleman smirked. "Or are you just jealous that you don't have a truly ravishing accent as mine?"

America sputtered. "Why the hell should I be jealous?" He barked out a laugh. "Ha! Mattie probably doesn't think your stupid accent is hot, right Canada?"

Canada inwardly groaned. Why were people asking him stupid questions instead of intelligent ones? He needed to get drunk. Now.

A glass of liquid was pushed into the Canadian's hand. Matthew looked up to see a smiling Russia holding a vodka bottle.

"Alcohol is good for the nerves, da?" Ivan said. "I have enough to share."

Even though he was scared of the enormous nation, Canada felt touched at the nice gift.

"Yes, thank you, Russia," Matthew nodded, before tipping his head back and downing the liquid. Instantly he felt better. The wonders of alcohol in stressful times like these!


Oh. Right. America was asking him a question.

"Eh, I think British accents are hot," the glasses-wearing nation answered, gulping down another shot of vodka from his glass that Russia had so graciously refilled. Well, he didn't mean to say hot, but the alcohol was messing with his mind already, so it's all right.

Alfred gaped as England-Arthur- roared in amusement again. Then it was America's turn to laugh and England to sputter as Canada voiced his opinion again.

"I like hamburgers and coca-cola better than your scones though, Arthur." The alcohol really was helping him calm his nerves! It was already making him forget that he was talking to two idiots!

"Take that, old man!" Alfred crowed, punching a fist in the air. "Told you McDonalds are better than your piece of shit cooking!"

"McDonalds are like bloody prostitutes!" England growled, clenching his hands angrily. "They're everywhere and people waste good money on shite like that! The food you eat is nuclear waste in aluminum and Styrofoam!"

"Take that back!" Alfred yelled. "That's an insult to the great Mickey Ds!"

"I suppose you mean McDicks," Arthur said, smirking. "That's right America, definitely bloody prostitutes."

"At least our coffee taste delicious!" America scowled. "Not like that piss-water crap you always drink!"

England reared back as if slapped. "You insolent brat. My tea is better than that mess you call coffee!"

"Yes," Canada agreed. "Tea is healthy, and it tastes good, so it's better." Vodka was the best though…

"Mattie!" America groaned.

England proceeded to cackle. "Bloody me is more awesome than America!"

"Oh, shut up," Alfred snarked, "At least us Americans drive on the right side of the road!"

England narrowed his green eyes. "Just what are you implying, you impudent whelp?"

America grinned, blue eyes twinkling innocently. "Oh, I'm not implying anything. I'm just stating the truth everyone knows that British people drive on the wrong side of the road. The left side."

Canada hiccupped, clenching his glass tightly. "Eh, sorry Arthur, but I have to agree with Alfred on that one." Another hiccup.

England felt his jaw drop. "The bloody hell? I do not drive on the wrong side! It is no fault of mine that bloody America just has to Americanize everything, including perfectly normal roads! I have more common sense than you people, and so that's the reason I drive on the right side!...Don't associate me with Thomas Paine. Bloody wanker."

"Hey! Don't diss the dead guy!" America defended. "Anyways, it's your king that caused all the crap!"

"I admit, that yes, King George was in fact an arse, but I wonder just what your first President's name was…" England trailed off.

"Hey! Don't hate my George! Go hate yours!" Alfred shot back, "And really, the way you call me dumb and stupid, have you ever wondered who was the one that raised me? Parents set examples for their kids, ya know."

England scoffed. "Oh, please, don't lump your low IQ on me. The day you started your blasted Revolution was the day you were your own man. If it wasn't for the dear old frog, you wouldn't have won the war!"

Matthew downed another shot. "I hafta agree with England there, eh," the fluffy-haired nation slurred.

"Mattie!" Alfred moaned exasperatedly. "You're my brother! You're supposed to agree with me! Not with the bad guy!"

Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow. "Bad guy? Really now, Alfred? Who's the one that forced those poor Indians on the fateful Trail of Tears, huh?"

"Okay, Andrew Jackson was badass, but he had his bad days too, you know! And anyways, he totally beated you in 1812!"

"Oh, shut up, you git! You're still just jealous that England is in fact, more awesome than you!"

"Stop deluding yourself, old man!"

"Isn't this wonderful, Kumajiro?" Canada laughed, feeling his eyes droop. "I'm drunk and I'm so happy, eh!"

The polar bear gazed at him uncomprehendingly. "Who are you?"

Canada felt his grip on the vodka glass falter (how many shots did he drink?) as he set his head down on the cool table.

"Happy birthday, England."

The Canadian then proceeded to take a nap as the nations began siding to Arthur or Alfred's side. A nap is better than that kind of war, after all.

The End.