[Fanfic] Family Game Night
Title: Family Game Night
Author: pickingupstars
Rating: T
Characters: England, Canada, America, and France
Summary: There should probably be an upper age limit on board games. If you are passed two centuries, you probably shouldn’t be allowed to play. FACE family.
AN: This is a long overdue gift for mylittlepuppet (curiousmarionette on fanfiction.net). She asked for Clue and the FACE family in November. Forgive me dear?
*****
“Are you two ever going to stop playing that game?” England asked from the couch while fiddling with a pillow he had embroidered and given to Canada years ago. The red had faded to a pink color and the white was practically cream. England decided he would make a new one for the boy’s birthday next year. Maybe some tea cozies too. As much as Canada liked to write, England couldn’t give him a journal every year.
Canada didn’t even notice he had said something. America ignored him. He had finally got his player in the right spot and--”Goal!” He pumped his hand into the air. “And I win!”
Canada dropped his controller in his lap. “I hate you.”
America stuck his tongue out. “Don’t be such a sore loser.”
“I think I said something like that to you in February after a certain hockey game. Silver’s not that bad, eh?”
America pretended not to hear him. “So, another game?”
England threw the pillow at America’s head. “Don’t you dare. You two have been playing that stupid game since we cleaned up for dinner.”
“It’s fun.” Canada said quietly. America bet ‘bad host’ guilt was starting to eat at him. (And probably a little angry that England called the NHL game stupid; it was a Canadian game and even America had thought it was cool since they returned fighting to the gameplay.)
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to play.”
France looked up from his magazine. He was sitting in the armchair that England had originally claimed earlier. England had abandoned the chair when France decided it was big enough to share. Kumajiro slept next to England. His white fur covered that side of the couch, claiming the spot as his. “Alfred, Mathieu, we came to visit you for your birthdays, not stare at a screen.”
“Well, what do you guys want to do then? We could go for a walk--”
“Hike.” America pretended to cough.
“--or something.” Canada glared at his twin.
“I am afraid I did not bring shoes for such a trip, mes fils.”
America and Canada shared a look and wondered if France had shoes meant for the great outdoors.
“So what would you like to do then?” Canada asked.
No one offered any ideas.
England sighed. “If it’s going to be like this, I’m going home. I enjoyed seeing you Canada but I am not going to just sit around for three more days.”
America winced. Convincing England to come for a long weekend had been hard. They had only managed to get him here by double teaming--Canada had guilt-tripped England about missing so many of his parties and America made sure he wouldn’t forget with daily obnoxious messages for a month until England promised to come.
“Well...um...Board games!” America said, thrusting his arm into the air. “You have some, right Mattie?”
“Of course.” Canada leaned to turn off the PS3 and stood up. “I think I have Sequence, Yahtzee, Sorry--”
“Which we aren’t playing.”
Canada rolled his eyes. “Just because I win?”
“’Cause you win every single time. And you always benefit from other people’s cards.”
“Whatever. I also have Clue--”
America smiled. “Let’s play that one!”
“Clue?” France asked.
“It’s a detective game. Let me go find it.” Canada disappeared into the hallway and came back with a cardboard box.
England looked at it. “Oh, you mean Cluedo.”
America and Canada look at each other. Canada shrugs.
“No,” America said. “We mean Clue. Just Clue.”
“It’s Cluedo. It’s my game.” England crossed his arms and glared. “The name comes from the word ‘Clue’ combined with the game ‘Ludo’.”
“The box says Clue.” America waved the box under England’s nose. England reached to grab it but France cut in and pulled the box away from them. He flipped it over and read the back. “Whodunit?” He asked, confused for a moment. “Ah, who done it. Yes?”
“Yep!”
“Stupid English.” France muttered in his own language. Then in English again, read out, “As you search the mansion’s nine Rooms and secret passages, be on the lookout for those murderous Suspects. And watch out for those deadly Weapons.”
France stared at England for a moment before laughing. “I am not surprised that you would develop such a game, Angleterre. You always had such a weird interest in such things. Detectives and murders, I swear you have an obsession.”
“And America inherited it too.” Canada said. “All those television shows based on it.”
“Hey! You do it too.”
“Be quiet. Don’t tell me you don’t have your own interests, frog. I know you and our natures.” England grabbed the game again. “Are we going to play or just squabble?”
“We’re going to play! I haven’t played in years.”
“Probably haven’t noticed a board game since videogames came out.”
“Like you ever suggest playing them either! You won’t even play card games with me, Mattie.”
“I don’t play with you because you cheat!”
“Do not!” America bit his lip and pouted at Canada.
“That doesn’t work on me.” Canada poked him on the nose. “You’re not that cute anymore, little brother.”
America shoved Canada onto the couch. “I’m a century older.”
Canada stood up again and shoved back. “You may be the older Nation but I am the older twin. The Vikings met me first.”
Before a fight could break out between the brothers, England slammed the box onto the coffee table. “Shut up. You would think you two were only a couple centuries old!”
“They are that young Angleterre.”
“Are not!” America shouted.
France raised an eyebrow.
“Not if you count the Vikings. And you should ‘cause you make jokes about Finland and Sweden when it comes to us.”
England put his hand to his forehead to ward off the impending headache and counted to ten. “Stupid frog.”
France twirled a lock of his hair in his fingers, trying to look innocent which ruined any credibility to his words. “What? They have Timo’s face and Berwald’s height and need for glasses. It’s obvious.”
“Don’t worry Iggy! Finland punched him in the gut the last time Francis implied he was a woman.”
“You mean when Francis still had you convinced Finland was female.” Canada poked his twin.
“That wasn’t my fault! I wasn’t sure if I could trust Francis but I thought I could trust Sweden!”
“Are we playing the game or not!” England yelled.
By experience ingrained in their childhood, both Canada and America immediately sat down next to each other at the coffee table. America frowned. “You can’t tell me what to--”
Canada grabbed his arm and leaned to whisper in his ear. “We want him here, remember? And I don’t want any broken furniture.”
England opened the game and laid out the board before grabbing the rules. America snatched the cards and separated the cards into suspects, rooms, and weapons.
“I thought this was your game, Angleterre?” France sat down next to England and looked over his shoulder.
“It is! I’m just making sure they,” England jerked his thumb to the twins. “Didn’t change the rules on me.”
America and Canada rolled their eyes.
“I...er, we just make things more interesting and you know it Iggy!”
Francis scooted towards Canada. “Mathieu, how does this work then?”
“Wanker.” England stole the cards from America.
“Hey!”
“Matthew says you cheat.”
America turned large, soul-wounded eyes on Canada.
“You gave me stick tape with your flag on it and bacon flavored lollipops.” Canada’s face twisted in disgust.
“Maple bacon flavored lollipops. And those were jokes! The real presents were the red and white tape and the massage gift card!”
Canada opened his mouth but France cut in. “Boys, if you two get all worked up, I may have to join in.”
America weighed more fighting against France’s smirk...and the way he was petting Canada’s shoulder. America grabbed the pieces and handed the red piece to Canada.
Canada pried France’s overly friendly hand and almost set it in the Frenchman’s lap before deciding the table was a better idea. He glared at America. “Why am I always Ms. Scarlet?”
“You don’t like red?” America smiled and handed a blue piece to France.
England looked up from shuffling. “He gets Mrs. Peacock? France? Married? Preposterous. If so, someone’s cuckholded.”
“That would be you, dear Angleterre.” France moved back over England. “After all, I proposed to you and we have several beautiful children.”
England turned red, whether from anger, embarrassment, or both, no one could tell. “Shut up, Frog!”
Canada saw France’s hand twitch in a familiar way that forewarned future groping. “So in this game, we roll the dice to get in the rooms. When in a room, you can guess any person--which brings them into the room--and any weapon but you need to use that room.
“And to finish, you have to formally accuse someone. You can do that from anywhere on your turn but if you are wrong, you lose and don’t get to play anymore.” America tossed a purple piece at England and twirled the yellow piece in his fingers. “I’m Colonel Mustard!”
“The old has-been.” England sneered. “Fitting with how you are so washed out and--”
“Wow, that sounds like you Iggy!” America smiled at England with his movie star smile, beautiful but oh so fake. “Maybe you should be yellow.”
France cut in. “And what of purple, Alfred?”
“Geeky, bumbling professor.” America put a finger to his chin and made a show of pretending to think. “Gee, I can’t decide which fits better.”
In a strange moment of pacifying that he wasn’t normally known for--quite the opposite actually--France suggested, “Why don’t we just use our names then? I do not think I will remember all these names otherwise.”
“That’s a great idea!” Canada agreed quickly.
“But what about green and white?” England cocked an eyebrow.
“Green is Russia!” America declared. The others looked at him strangely. “What? One of the weapons is a lead pipe. It makes perfect sense.”
“Piping. Lead piping.”
“Um, Iggy, it’s a single pipe.”
“White should be Belarus then.” Canada interrupted. He blushed when everyone looked at him. “If we’re using the weapons to decide the last two, there are knives.”
“And Belarus doesn’t go anywhere without fifty.” America nodded.
“What are the other weapons? The rope and gun make sense, along with Russe and Bélarus’s weapons, but what are the last two?” France leaned against America in guise of peering over his shoulder. This wandering hands had a different story as they drifted up and down America’s arms.
“Oh, that’s a candlestick--I guess you bash someone’s head in cause a match and gasoline would be easier to set someone on fire--and the other is a wrench. Which has the same blunt force idea.” America smiled at France. He didn’t even notice the France becoming more touchy.
“You mean a spanner.” England kicked France. France pulled away from America with a pout.
“No, I don’t. Fifty bucks the box says wrench.”
“It’s still my game! Just because you abuse my language--”
“How about we start?” Canada asked and grabbed a card each from the three sets and placed them into the tiny manila folder. He gestured to America. With a smirk, America shuffled the rest of the cards and then passed them all out. Canada gave everyone a score sheet and pencil.
“Do we roll to see who goes first?”
“Nope. Canada does. He has red, so it’s kind of like white in chess.”
“I am surprised you would let someone else go first, Alfred.”
England snorts. “I am surprised he knows anything about chess.”
“It’s Mattie’s birthday!” America ignored England. "So why not let him go first?"
Canada rolled his eyes. “And since it goes clockwise, he goes next. Then you and then England.”
“All right, let’s start!” America thrust his arm in the air.
********************
“Canada in the library with the rope.” America said.
At America’s expectant look, Canada shook his head. He didn’t have any of those cards. France handed America a card.
“Why does everyone keeping accusing me?” Canada sighed. He didn’t have the Ms. Scarlet card but he was pretty sure it wasn’t him.
America looked up over his cards and smirked.
Canada glared at him but didn’t say anything. He drew an ‘x’ next to his name.
“Canada in the ballroom with the candlestick.” Francis asked. England handed him a card. “Quoi!? But I have marked all of my weapons now!”
“Probably messed up. That is typical of you.” England rolled and moved his piece into the library. “Canada in the ballroom with the knife.”
Canada handed him the knife card.
“What!?”
Francis peered over. “See, it happened to you too!”
England shoved him away. “That can’t be right! Alfred must have shuffled them wrong.”
America’s jaw dropped. “You-you--”
“Matthew even said he cheats!”
“Al may cheat but mis-shuffle?” Canada shook his head. “He does shuffling tricks blindfolded. The only time I’ve seen him mess up was after two bottles of tequila--”
“You promised to never speak of that night!”
“--and you won’t catch him cheating.”
“That’s because I don’t cheat!” America huffed and crossed his arms.
“Well, I have only three possibilities left. One room and two people cards.”
“Well, it wasn’t my doing.” America glared at England. “You did take the cards from me.”
“So you think I messed it up!?”
“Yep.”
“How about you make an accusation and we can end the game?” Canada turned pleading eyes on England.
England grumbled. “Fine. This is weird but...England with France in the library.”
America’s eyebrows shot up. “Kinky.”
“Shut up!” England looked away. A blush was creeping up his neck.
“Why am I the weapon?” France asked. He sounded confused.
“It makes sense.” Canada said without thinking.
America nodded. “Strangely enough. Arthur used him as a threat when I was a kid. Come on, Iggy. Check the folder.”
England pulled the cards out of the folder and threw them down. “I win.”
“And the moral of this game is England can’t shuffle.” America leaned back. “And technically, it wasn’t your turn anyways.
England launched himself at America, who held him away easily. Canada looked at France for help. France was wearing a predatory smile and was already missing his shirt.
He probably should be happy that they lasted a day--and his birthday for that matter--without fighting.
Canada sighed as they crashed into the wall. “Watch out for the TV.”
**************************************************
-The description Francis reads is on the 1996 North American version of Clue. I don’t know if the rules are any different on other editions/versions.
-My Canada is not good at being invisible. Passive aggressive, yes. Just not invisible.
-Okay, with England, America, and murder thing, England had the ‘first’ serial killer (Jack the Ripper), Sherlock Homes, and Agatha Christie to name a few signs of obsession. And if I have read correctly, America has the highest amount of serial killers (or at least those identified.)
Author: pickingupstars
Rating: T
Characters: England, Canada, America, and France
Summary: There should probably be an upper age limit on board games. If you are passed two centuries, you probably shouldn’t be allowed to play. FACE family.
AN: This is a long overdue gift for mylittlepuppet (curiousmarionette on fanfiction.net). She asked for Clue and the FACE family in November. Forgive me dear?
*****
“Are you two ever going to stop playing that game?” England asked from the couch while fiddling with a pillow he had embroidered and given to Canada years ago. The red had faded to a pink color and the white was practically cream. England decided he would make a new one for the boy’s birthday next year. Maybe some tea cozies too. As much as Canada liked to write, England couldn’t give him a journal every year.
Canada didn’t even notice he had said something. America ignored him. He had finally got his player in the right spot and--”Goal!” He pumped his hand into the air. “And I win!”
Canada dropped his controller in his lap. “I hate you.”
America stuck his tongue out. “Don’t be such a sore loser.”
“I think I said something like that to you in February after a certain hockey game. Silver’s not that bad, eh?”
America pretended not to hear him. “So, another game?”
England threw the pillow at America’s head. “Don’t you dare. You two have been playing that stupid game since we cleaned up for dinner.”
“It’s fun.” Canada said quietly. America bet ‘bad host’ guilt was starting to eat at him. (And probably a little angry that England called the NHL game stupid; it was a Canadian game and even America had thought it was cool since they returned fighting to the gameplay.)
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to play.”
France looked up from his magazine. He was sitting in the armchair that England had originally claimed earlier. England had abandoned the chair when France decided it was big enough to share. Kumajiro slept next to England. His white fur covered that side of the couch, claiming the spot as his. “Alfred, Mathieu, we came to visit you for your birthdays, not stare at a screen.”
“Well, what do you guys want to do then? We could go for a walk--”
“Hike.” America pretended to cough.
“--or something.” Canada glared at his twin.
“I am afraid I did not bring shoes for such a trip, mes fils.”
America and Canada shared a look and wondered if France had shoes meant for the great outdoors.
“So what would you like to do then?” Canada asked.
No one offered any ideas.
England sighed. “If it’s going to be like this, I’m going home. I enjoyed seeing you Canada but I am not going to just sit around for three more days.”
America winced. Convincing England to come for a long weekend had been hard. They had only managed to get him here by double teaming--Canada had guilt-tripped England about missing so many of his parties and America made sure he wouldn’t forget with daily obnoxious messages for a month until England promised to come.
“Well...um...Board games!” America said, thrusting his arm into the air. “You have some, right Mattie?”
“Of course.” Canada leaned to turn off the PS3 and stood up. “I think I have Sequence, Yahtzee, Sorry--”
“Which we aren’t playing.”
Canada rolled his eyes. “Just because I win?”
“’Cause you win every single time. And you always benefit from other people’s cards.”
“Whatever. I also have Clue--”
America smiled. “Let’s play that one!”
“Clue?” France asked.
“It’s a detective game. Let me go find it.” Canada disappeared into the hallway and came back with a cardboard box.
England looked at it. “Oh, you mean Cluedo.”
America and Canada look at each other. Canada shrugs.
“No,” America said. “We mean Clue. Just Clue.”
“It’s Cluedo. It’s my game.” England crossed his arms and glared. “The name comes from the word ‘Clue’ combined with the game ‘Ludo’.”
“The box says Clue.” America waved the box under England’s nose. England reached to grab it but France cut in and pulled the box away from them. He flipped it over and read the back. “Whodunit?” He asked, confused for a moment. “Ah, who done it. Yes?”
“Yep!”
“Stupid English.” France muttered in his own language. Then in English again, read out, “As you search the mansion’s nine Rooms and secret passages, be on the lookout for those murderous Suspects. And watch out for those deadly Weapons.”
France stared at England for a moment before laughing. “I am not surprised that you would develop such a game, Angleterre. You always had such a weird interest in such things. Detectives and murders, I swear you have an obsession.”
“And America inherited it too.” Canada said. “All those television shows based on it.”
“Hey! You do it too.”
“Be quiet. Don’t tell me you don’t have your own interests, frog. I know you and our natures.” England grabbed the game again. “Are we going to play or just squabble?”
“We’re going to play! I haven’t played in years.”
“Probably haven’t noticed a board game since videogames came out.”
“Like you ever suggest playing them either! You won’t even play card games with me, Mattie.”
“I don’t play with you because you cheat!”
“Do not!” America bit his lip and pouted at Canada.
“That doesn’t work on me.” Canada poked him on the nose. “You’re not that cute anymore, little brother.”
America shoved Canada onto the couch. “I’m a century older.”
Canada stood up again and shoved back. “You may be the older Nation but I am the older twin. The Vikings met me first.”
Before a fight could break out between the brothers, England slammed the box onto the coffee table. “Shut up. You would think you two were only a couple centuries old!”
“They are that young Angleterre.”
“Are not!” America shouted.
France raised an eyebrow.
“Not if you count the Vikings. And you should ‘cause you make jokes about Finland and Sweden when it comes to us.”
England put his hand to his forehead to ward off the impending headache and counted to ten. “Stupid frog.”
France twirled a lock of his hair in his fingers, trying to look innocent which ruined any credibility to his words. “What? They have Timo’s face and Berwald’s height and need for glasses. It’s obvious.”
“Don’t worry Iggy! Finland punched him in the gut the last time Francis implied he was a woman.”
“You mean when Francis still had you convinced Finland was female.” Canada poked his twin.
“That wasn’t my fault! I wasn’t sure if I could trust Francis but I thought I could trust Sweden!”
“Are we playing the game or not!” England yelled.
By experience ingrained in their childhood, both Canada and America immediately sat down next to each other at the coffee table. America frowned. “You can’t tell me what to--”
Canada grabbed his arm and leaned to whisper in his ear. “We want him here, remember? And I don’t want any broken furniture.”
England opened the game and laid out the board before grabbing the rules. America snatched the cards and separated the cards into suspects, rooms, and weapons.
“I thought this was your game, Angleterre?” France sat down next to England and looked over his shoulder.
“It is! I’m just making sure they,” England jerked his thumb to the twins. “Didn’t change the rules on me.”
America and Canada rolled their eyes.
“I...er, we just make things more interesting and you know it Iggy!”
Francis scooted towards Canada. “Mathieu, how does this work then?”
“Wanker.” England stole the cards from America.
“Hey!”
“Matthew says you cheat.”
America turned large, soul-wounded eyes on Canada.
“You gave me stick tape with your flag on it and bacon flavored lollipops.” Canada’s face twisted in disgust.
“Maple bacon flavored lollipops. And those were jokes! The real presents were the red and white tape and the massage gift card!”
Canada opened his mouth but France cut in. “Boys, if you two get all worked up, I may have to join in.”
America weighed more fighting against France’s smirk...and the way he was petting Canada’s shoulder. America grabbed the pieces and handed the red piece to Canada.
Canada pried France’s overly friendly hand and almost set it in the Frenchman’s lap before deciding the table was a better idea. He glared at America. “Why am I always Ms. Scarlet?”
“You don’t like red?” America smiled and handed a blue piece to France.
England looked up from shuffling. “He gets Mrs. Peacock? France? Married? Preposterous. If so, someone’s cuckholded.”
“That would be you, dear Angleterre.” France moved back over England. “After all, I proposed to you and we have several beautiful children.”
England turned red, whether from anger, embarrassment, or both, no one could tell. “Shut up, Frog!”
Canada saw France’s hand twitch in a familiar way that forewarned future groping. “So in this game, we roll the dice to get in the rooms. When in a room, you can guess any person--which brings them into the room--and any weapon but you need to use that room.
“And to finish, you have to formally accuse someone. You can do that from anywhere on your turn but if you are wrong, you lose and don’t get to play anymore.” America tossed a purple piece at England and twirled the yellow piece in his fingers. “I’m Colonel Mustard!”
“The old has-been.” England sneered. “Fitting with how you are so washed out and--”
“Wow, that sounds like you Iggy!” America smiled at England with his movie star smile, beautiful but oh so fake. “Maybe you should be yellow.”
France cut in. “And what of purple, Alfred?”
“Geeky, bumbling professor.” America put a finger to his chin and made a show of pretending to think. “Gee, I can’t decide which fits better.”
In a strange moment of pacifying that he wasn’t normally known for--quite the opposite actually--France suggested, “Why don’t we just use our names then? I do not think I will remember all these names otherwise.”
“That’s a great idea!” Canada agreed quickly.
“But what about green and white?” England cocked an eyebrow.
“Green is Russia!” America declared. The others looked at him strangely. “What? One of the weapons is a lead pipe. It makes perfect sense.”
“Piping. Lead piping.”
“Um, Iggy, it’s a single pipe.”
“White should be Belarus then.” Canada interrupted. He blushed when everyone looked at him. “If we’re using the weapons to decide the last two, there are knives.”
“And Belarus doesn’t go anywhere without fifty.” America nodded.
“What are the other weapons? The rope and gun make sense, along with Russe and Bélarus’s weapons, but what are the last two?” France leaned against America in guise of peering over his shoulder. This wandering hands had a different story as they drifted up and down America’s arms.
“Oh, that’s a candlestick--I guess you bash someone’s head in cause a match and gasoline would be easier to set someone on fire--and the other is a wrench. Which has the same blunt force idea.” America smiled at France. He didn’t even notice the France becoming more touchy.
“You mean a spanner.” England kicked France. France pulled away from America with a pout.
“No, I don’t. Fifty bucks the box says wrench.”
“It’s still my game! Just because you abuse my language--”
“How about we start?” Canada asked and grabbed a card each from the three sets and placed them into the tiny manila folder. He gestured to America. With a smirk, America shuffled the rest of the cards and then passed them all out. Canada gave everyone a score sheet and pencil.
“Do we roll to see who goes first?”
“Nope. Canada does. He has red, so it’s kind of like white in chess.”
“I am surprised you would let someone else go first, Alfred.”
England snorts. “I am surprised he knows anything about chess.”
“It’s Mattie’s birthday!” America ignored England. "So why not let him go first?"
Canada rolled his eyes. “And since it goes clockwise, he goes next. Then you and then England.”
“All right, let’s start!” America thrust his arm in the air.
********************
“Canada in the library with the rope.” America said.
At America’s expectant look, Canada shook his head. He didn’t have any of those cards. France handed America a card.
“Why does everyone keeping accusing me?” Canada sighed. He didn’t have the Ms. Scarlet card but he was pretty sure it wasn’t him.
America looked up over his cards and smirked.
Canada glared at him but didn’t say anything. He drew an ‘x’ next to his name.
“Canada in the ballroom with the candlestick.” Francis asked. England handed him a card. “Quoi!? But I have marked all of my weapons now!”
“Probably messed up. That is typical of you.” England rolled and moved his piece into the library. “Canada in the ballroom with the knife.”
Canada handed him the knife card.
“What!?”
Francis peered over. “See, it happened to you too!”
England shoved him away. “That can’t be right! Alfred must have shuffled them wrong.”
America’s jaw dropped. “You-you--”
“Matthew even said he cheats!”
“Al may cheat but mis-shuffle?” Canada shook his head. “He does shuffling tricks blindfolded. The only time I’ve seen him mess up was after two bottles of tequila--”
“You promised to never speak of that night!”
“--and you won’t catch him cheating.”
“That’s because I don’t cheat!” America huffed and crossed his arms.
“Well, I have only three possibilities left. One room and two people cards.”
“Well, it wasn’t my doing.” America glared at England. “You did take the cards from me.”
“So you think I messed it up!?”
“Yep.”
“How about you make an accusation and we can end the game?” Canada turned pleading eyes on England.
England grumbled. “Fine. This is weird but...England with France in the library.”
America’s eyebrows shot up. “Kinky.”
“Shut up!” England looked away. A blush was creeping up his neck.
“Why am I the weapon?” France asked. He sounded confused.
“It makes sense.” Canada said without thinking.
America nodded. “Strangely enough. Arthur used him as a threat when I was a kid. Come on, Iggy. Check the folder.”
England pulled the cards out of the folder and threw them down. “I win.”
“And the moral of this game is England can’t shuffle.” America leaned back. “And technically, it wasn’t your turn anyways.
England launched himself at America, who held him away easily. Canada looked at France for help. France was wearing a predatory smile and was already missing his shirt.
He probably should be happy that they lasted a day--and his birthday for that matter--without fighting.
Canada sighed as they crashed into the wall. “Watch out for the TV.”
**************************************************
-The description Francis reads is on the 1996 North American version of Clue. I don’t know if the rules are any different on other editions/versions.
-My Canada is not good at being invisible. Passive aggressive, yes. Just not invisible.
-Okay, with England, America, and murder thing, England had the ‘first’ serial killer (Jack the Ripper), Sherlock Homes, and Agatha Christie to name a few signs of obsession. And if I have read correctly, America has the highest amount of serial killers (or at least those identified.)