Re: UNITED IN PERVERSITY
anonymous
July 20 2009, 12:10:42 UTC
“So, what's your problem really?” Slovakia inquired. “This is kind of like those Warsaw Pact parties when everyone got really drunk and… well, never mind.”
“I would like to know too,” Antonio said. “I get sat on during an official meeting without even knowing what I did wrong. Romano, just tell us what…” “You know it very well, you twisted jerk, and the devil has got a special place in Hell just for you!”
“Just leave the Queen mode and spill it, Romano!” England retorted. Germany shuffled through El País. “Please, Germany, don't look…” came a plea from Feliciano's side. “I will die of shame and you will hurt your eyes forever.”
And from Gilbert's side: “Come on, bro! It must be some orgy! We want an orgy! We want an orgy!” Ex-DDR was leaning over to sneak a peak in a way that almost made Ludwig wish for a wall between them. Just a tiny one… He slapped himself mentally.
Antonio could hear birds singing from outside… everyone was silent and waiting… it was rather disconcerting… He got up from his seat and approached Germany. He had not read El País today and obviously he missed out on something big. France casually walked over too.
The silence was broken by a bout of Gilbert's trademark laugh. Germany's face was carefully blank. Feliciano was clinging to Ludwig's sleeve wailing. Romano fell on his knees on the floor and swore eternal damnation to a great deal of the Iberian Peninsula and each Member State who dares to laugh - which now included France who was applauding, Gilbert passing the paper on to the Netherlands who wolf-whistled and tossed it to Spain…
Antonio looked at the photos. “Sorry, Romano,” he tried to say, but he failed miserably, because he was grinning like a madman. He could not help it. The half-naked chicks in Italies' boss villa surrounding more or less naked fat cats. Was there a more stupid cliché?
He passed the newspaper to England without a word. He was afraid his poor ribs won't survive the day. He thought briefly about comforting Romano, but it would be probably the last thing he would ever do. The boy looked murderous.
“England, stop drooling.” France grasped the newspaper victoriously. “There are others who want to see!”
“I bet you are going to have it framed over you bed,” said England.
“Mais non, I prefer beautiful people. The politicians spoil the artistic value.” France smiled so sweetly that the water in the glasses on the table spontaneously turned into Sprite. “There is someone else who should see.”
He turned to Czech Republic. “No wonder your bosses can't run the Union when they are so pleasantly occupied elsewhere, little presidency. But don't worry, big brother France will help you.”
Re: UNITED IN PERVERSITY
anonymous
July 20 2009, 12:19:05 UTC
“W-what? I was just proving a point!” the girl protested.
“And what point it might be?” France purred.
“That EU can run autopilot?” tried Czech Republic. “Anarchy is an answer!”
France laid the newspaper in front of her. “You know, EU had been nothing without dirty Eastern European girls.”
“It's Central Europe to you,” Hungary defended their honour indignantly while Czech Republic was busy staring at the photo and her face got incredibly white and her body rigid. The room fell quiet again.
After few ominous seconds Czech Republic asked: “What is the highest building in the world?”
Stunned silence was disrupted only by the sound of Estonia, ever the model student, tapping the keyboard of his notebook.
“Currently, the tallest completed building is Taipei 101 in Taiwan,” Estonia answered. “509.2 metres.”
“Oh no,” sighed Slovakia as the Czech's eyes turned into slits.
“Excuse me,” Czech Republic said, “I have to go now and invite my political representatives for a trip.”
Before she headed outside she turned apologetically to the other Member States: “It's been centuries without a proper defenestration.”
“See, this happens when a girl stays with Russia like too long!” Poland nodded wisely.
And he threw a krówka at fuming Romano.
Iceland stepped out from the discreet corner where he was observing the EU meeting. He was clutching notes to his chest and whispered: “I just don't think I am up to this.”
“I would like to know too,” Antonio said. “I get sat on during an official meeting without even knowing what I did wrong. Romano, just tell us what…”
“You know it very well, you twisted jerk, and the devil has got a special place in Hell just for you!”
“Just leave the Queen mode and spill it, Romano!” England retorted.
Germany shuffled through El País. “Please, Germany, don't look…” came a plea from Feliciano's side. “I will die of shame and you will hurt your eyes forever.”
And from Gilbert's side: “Come on, bro! It must be some orgy! We want an orgy! We want an orgy!” Ex-DDR was leaning over to sneak a peak in a way that almost made Ludwig wish for a wall between them. Just a tiny one… He slapped himself mentally.
Antonio could hear birds singing from outside… everyone was silent and waiting… it was rather disconcerting…
He got up from his seat and approached Germany. He had not read El País today and obviously he missed out on something big. France casually walked over too.
The silence was broken by a bout of Gilbert's trademark laugh. Germany's face was carefully blank. Feliciano was clinging to Ludwig's sleeve wailing. Romano fell on his knees on the floor and swore eternal damnation to a great deal of the Iberian Peninsula and each Member State who dares to laugh - which now included France who was applauding, Gilbert passing the paper on to the Netherlands who wolf-whistled and tossed it to Spain…
Antonio looked at the photos. “Sorry, Romano,” he tried to say, but he failed miserably, because he was grinning like a madman. He could not help it. The half-naked chicks in Italies' boss villa surrounding more or less naked fat cats. Was there a more stupid cliché?
He passed the newspaper to England without a word. He was afraid his poor ribs won't survive the day. He thought briefly about comforting Romano, but it would be probably the last thing he would ever do. The boy looked murderous.
“England, stop drooling.” France grasped the newspaper victoriously. “There are others who want to see!”
“I bet you are going to have it framed over you bed,” said England.
“Mais non, I prefer beautiful people. The politicians spoil the artistic value.” France smiled so sweetly that the water in the glasses on the table spontaneously turned into Sprite. “There is someone else who should see.”
He turned to Czech Republic. “No wonder your bosses can't run the Union when they are so pleasantly occupied elsewhere, little presidency. But don't worry, big brother France will help you.”
Reply
“And what point it might be?” France purred.
“That EU can run autopilot?” tried Czech Republic. “Anarchy is an answer!”
France laid the newspaper in front of her. “You know, EU had been nothing without dirty Eastern European girls.”
“It's Central Europe to you,” Hungary defended their honour indignantly while Czech Republic was busy staring at the photo and her face got incredibly white and her body rigid.
The room fell quiet again.
After few ominous seconds Czech Republic asked: “What is the highest building in the world?”
Stunned silence was disrupted only by the sound of Estonia, ever the model student, tapping the keyboard of his notebook.
“Currently, the tallest completed building is Taipei 101 in Taiwan,” Estonia answered. “509.2 metres.”
“Oh no,” sighed Slovakia as the Czech's eyes turned into slits.
“Excuse me,” Czech Republic said, “I have to go now and invite my political representatives for a trip.”
Before she headed outside she turned apologetically to the other Member States: “It's been centuries without a proper defenestration.”
“See, this happens when a girl stays with Russia like too long!” Poland nodded wisely.
And he threw a krówka at fuming Romano.
Iceland stepped out from the discreet corner where he was observing the EU meeting. He was clutching notes to his chest and whispered: “I just don't think I am up to this.”
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment