[Part 14] World War Uke (UKUS v. Gerita) (3/?)
anonymous
April 21 2011, 23:53:54 UTC
Being the consummate host and also hoping to get the “battles” underway, France invited his four guests out to a dinner at the fanciest restaurant in Paris (“It’s got nothing on the Ritz,” England commented with no lack of bitterness) after buying them all nice clothes as well. Canada was a bit ashamed at his boyfriend’s blatant provocation, but he also didn’t stop him.
“I haven’t had a good plate of pasta in so long I’ve almost forgotten what it tastes like,” Italy cooed as he patiently waited for his dinner.
“You had it for breakfast,” Germany reminded him before remembering the scenario. “And by the way, you’re the best chef I’ve ever met. I will gladly go to my grave eating your pasta.”
France sniggered. England was hasty to declare, “Well, America has people to cook for him, what with his vastly superior economy!”
“Oh, ha, that’s a laugh!”
“What do you mean by that!”
“America’s economy being described as anything other than ‘about to crash, burn and die!’”
“Heeeey,” America whined, “That wasn’t very nice, dude. You wouldn’t even HAVE an economy if not for me!”
“Ha! He’s right!”
France covered his heart, shocked that England admitted America was right about anything. Canada realized that this was about to turn into yet another argument about war, so he quickly interjected, “So, who can eat more, Italy or America?”
Re: [Part 14] World War Uke (UKUS v. Gerita) (3/?)
anonymous
April 22 2011, 02:11:54 UTC
Holy shit...no way...NO WAY O: YOU DID IT. Ive been looking for this epic adventure of finding the atmosphere since FOREVER. yes! Your writing style just works so well with this type of humor.
lol I wonder how UK will feel once he realizes that America is just doing it for fun and not because he can't read the atmosphere (this is canon).
Re: [Part 14] World War Uke (UKUS v. Gerita) (3/?)
anonymous
April 23 2011, 22:25:35 UTC
My god! This is so cute and cracktastic! You have all of these characters so down pat, and it makes me feel all kinds a warm and fuzzy. Totally stalking this fill (hides in the bushes)
Re: [Part 14] World War Uke (UKUS v. Gerita) (3/?)
anonymous
April 24 2011, 20:52:11 UTC
Duuuuuude! This is awesome! great awesome amazing job!
But some things I must correct here.
You can't say 'du dummkopf schlampe'. It's like saying 'you Asshole whore'. If you want to say 'stupid whore' you have to say 'dumme Schlampe'. Also 'Scheisse' is spelled with an ß. It's 'Scheiße'....OuO But still, awesome job!
Re: [Part 14] World War Uke (UKUS v. Gerita) (3/?)
anonymous
April 24 2011, 22:10:02 UTC
Thanks ^^
My German is a bit sketchy, but I couldn't resist the urge to have Germany call someone a Schlampe, as it's one of the few insults my German teacher taught us ^^;; And sadly, I don't have that awesome symbol on my keyboard or else I would have used it ^^;;;;; Sigh. Lesson learned, keep Germany speaking English a lesson I didn't have to learn with France since I know exactly 0 French, but, oh well xDD If I ever de-anon, corrections shall be made!
[Part 14] World War Uke (4/?)
anonymous
April 25 2011, 17:07:03 UTC
I just wanted to say thank you so much for the kind words! I’d respond to all of you, but space is at a premium. So I’ll just say that I’ll definitely continue now and I hope you continue to enjoy! This story is writing itself, I swear it. I’ve also been playing Dragon Age 2. It shows. I’m sorry.
America and Italy were assuredly not averse to this turn of events.
“I. Love. Eating. Contests!” America all but squealed. “You have no idea how happy I was when I finally beat Japan at eating hot dogs! That skinny zen master has mad skills, for serious!”
Italy’s eyes were open, wide and shining. “Please tell me I can eat pasta! I don’t care what kind - spaghetti, linguini, rigatoni…”
France merely sighed and arranged the entire thing. Canada felt no remorse, although he had a sinking suspicion that this entire situation would only be resolved by England and Germany getting drunk and having a pissing contest.
“… fettuccine, bucatini, garganelli…”
An enormous plate of piled-up hamburgers was placed in front of America, while an equally enormous plate of spaghetti was placed in front of Italy. The latter looked at Germany, eyes still open but now looking warily hopeful. “Can I say it?”
Germany debated. If denied, he might become less shiny and therefore more likely to lose. If allowed, he would look absurd, which was typical, yes, but… He sighed. “All right, go ahead.”
Italy beamed. “PAAAASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
“You’ll notice how AMERICA didn’t waste time with catch-phrases before whole-heartedly devoting himself to winning this competition,” England crooned, gesturing. America was in fact shoving his face with hamburgers.
“Can I get a milkshake too?” he asked, mouth full.
“If you win,” England replied, when normally he’d yell at him for being rude.
“Win what?” America asked.
England sighed, resigned. “Never mind. Keep eating.”
America grinned. “This is the best day ever! Om nom nom!”
Italy on the other hand had a steady stream of pasta entering his mouth like a vacuum cleaner, his eyes now closed as he inhaled. France had to cover his eyes lest he get sick at watching the two of them eat as if they had bottomless pits for stomachs; the other three watched in what could only be described as morbid fascination.
When Italy’s pile of pasta was gone, the nation leaned back and gave a pleased sigh. “All done,” he cooed, patting a slightly rotund belly.
America on the other hand finished off his plate and raised his hand for a waiter. “Bring me seconds!”
“America wins!” England crooned victoriously, “He’s asking for seconds! And you’ll get those seconds, and that milkshake!”
“Awesome!”
“Pasta is more filling than hamburgers!” Germany protested heatedly, and possibly lying; he’d just made it up, so who knew if it was true or not? “If anything this is a draw!”
“Oh bollocks, you’re just mad because America is a winner while Italy is a loser!”
Germany gritted his teeth. “If that were the case, I would not be in a relationship with him now would I?”
That gave England pause. “A fair point,” he admitted, looking at the cheerfully oblivious Italy while unable to think of a single instance wherein he won anything. No wonder Germany is being so defensive, he thought musingly. Well, then he shouldn’t have pitted Italy against America of all nations. Start small, like Liechtenstein, or Latvia… Maybe Luxembourg… I’d say Sealand, but he’s not a nation so he doesn’t count… Besides, he’s British, so of course he’d win. “Regardless, America’s won this round.”
“A DRAW!” Germany roared, slamming his fist on down the table. “PASTA AND HAMBURGERS ARE NOT A FAIR POINT OF COMPARISON AND I INSIST THAT THIS BE CONSIDERED A DRAW!”
Remembering that the last time that Germany got this insistent he ended up being bombed, England finally conceded that the first round was a draw.
“I haven’t had a good plate of pasta in so long I’ve almost forgotten what it tastes like,” Italy cooed as he patiently waited for his dinner.
“You had it for breakfast,” Germany reminded him before remembering the scenario. “And by the way, you’re the best chef I’ve ever met. I will gladly go to my grave eating your pasta.”
France sniggered. England was hasty to declare, “Well, America has people to cook for him, what with his vastly superior economy!”
“Oh, ha, that’s a laugh!”
“What do you mean by that!”
“America’s economy being described as anything other than ‘about to crash, burn and die!’”
“Heeeey,” America whined, “That wasn’t very nice, dude. You wouldn’t even HAVE an economy if not for me!”
“Ha! He’s right!”
France covered his heart, shocked that England admitted America was right about anything. Canada realized that this was about to turn into yet another argument about war, so he quickly interjected, “So, who can eat more, Italy or America?”
And thus was born the first Challenge!
to be continued maybe
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America & Italy are the best dumb/bad-asses evar! Love your England & Germany too!
Please please continue, author!anon! Your writing is just too awesome not to!
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Your writing style just works so well with this type of humor.
lol I wonder how UK will feel once he realizes that America is just doing it for fun and not because he can't read the atmosphere (this is canon).
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I've actually read The Atmosphere before, so if Italy and America keep trying, they just might find it! XD
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I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DEAR ANON!!! ;O; THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANYOUUUU<33333333
I AM ROLLING WITH LAUGHTER THIS IS PERFECT AHHAHAHA oooh Al and Feli are so derp<3 I love them.
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I hope to continue pleasing :D Although I noticed you called them by their human names - is that a preference? I have no problem catering <3
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YOU'RE DOING GREAT WITH THIS PLEASING THING. <3333
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Also, this fill is epic. And I don't even like USUK.
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Can't wait for more, author!anon. :]
And if the contest is "who can eat more?", America wins. Period. XD
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Pff and you started it off by alluding to Machiavelli. You win everything.
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But some things I must correct here.
You can't say 'du dummkopf schlampe'. It's like saying 'you Asshole whore'. If you want to say 'stupid whore' you have to say 'dumme Schlampe'. Also 'Scheisse' is spelled with an ß. It's 'Scheiße'....OuO But still, awesome job!
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My German is a bit sketchy, but I couldn't resist the urge to have Germany call someone a Schlampe, as it's one of the few insults my German teacher taught us ^^;; And sadly, I don't have that awesome symbol on my keyboard or else I would have used it ^^;;;;; Sigh. Lesson learned, keep Germany speaking English a lesson I didn't have to learn with France since I know exactly 0 French, but, oh well xDD If I ever de-anon, corrections shall be made!
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America and Italy were assuredly not averse to this turn of events.
“I. Love. Eating. Contests!” America all but squealed. “You have no idea how happy I was when I finally beat Japan at eating hot dogs! That skinny zen master has mad skills, for serious!”
Italy’s eyes were open, wide and shining. “Please tell me I can eat pasta! I don’t care what kind - spaghetti, linguini, rigatoni…”
France merely sighed and arranged the entire thing. Canada felt no remorse, although he had a sinking suspicion that this entire situation would only be resolved by England and Germany getting drunk and having a pissing contest.
“… fettuccine, bucatini, garganelli…”
An enormous plate of piled-up hamburgers was placed in front of America, while an equally enormous plate of spaghetti was placed in front of Italy. The latter looked at Germany, eyes still open but now looking warily hopeful. “Can I say it?”
Germany debated. If denied, he might become less shiny and therefore more likely to lose. If allowed, he would look absurd, which was typical, yes, but… He sighed. “All right, go ahead.”
Italy beamed. “PAAAASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
“You’ll notice how AMERICA didn’t waste time with catch-phrases before whole-heartedly devoting himself to winning this competition,” England crooned, gesturing. America was in fact shoving his face with hamburgers.
“Can I get a milkshake too?” he asked, mouth full.
“If you win,” England replied, when normally he’d yell at him for being rude.
“Win what?” America asked.
England sighed, resigned. “Never mind. Keep eating.”
America grinned. “This is the best day ever! Om nom nom!”
Italy on the other hand had a steady stream of pasta entering his mouth like a vacuum cleaner, his eyes now closed as he inhaled. France had to cover his eyes lest he get sick at watching the two of them eat as if they had bottomless pits for stomachs; the other three watched in what could only be described as morbid fascination.
When Italy’s pile of pasta was gone, the nation leaned back and gave a pleased sigh. “All done,” he cooed, patting a slightly rotund belly.
America on the other hand finished off his plate and raised his hand for a waiter. “Bring me seconds!”
“America wins!” England crooned victoriously, “He’s asking for seconds! And you’ll get those seconds, and that milkshake!”
“Awesome!”
“Pasta is more filling than hamburgers!” Germany protested heatedly, and possibly lying; he’d just made it up, so who knew if it was true or not? “If anything this is a draw!”
“Oh bollocks, you’re just mad because America is a winner while Italy is a loser!”
Germany gritted his teeth. “If that were the case, I would not be in a relationship with him now would I?”
That gave England pause. “A fair point,” he admitted, looking at the cheerfully oblivious Italy while unable to think of a single instance wherein he won anything. No wonder Germany is being so defensive, he thought musingly. Well, then he shouldn’t have pitted Italy against America of all nations. Start small, like Liechtenstein, or Latvia… Maybe Luxembourg… I’d say Sealand, but he’s not a nation so he doesn’t count… Besides, he’s British, so of course he’d win. “Regardless, America’s won this round.”
“A DRAW!” Germany roared, slamming his fist on down the table. “PASTA AND HAMBURGERS ARE NOT A FAIR POINT OF COMPARISON AND I INSIST THAT THIS BE CONSIDERED A DRAW!”
Remembering that the last time that Germany got this insistent he ended up being bombed, England finally conceded that the first round was a draw.
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