[An accidental video feed shows America Canada curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, starting at a wall. At the foot of the bed, is a white polar bear, the infamous Kumajirou, and he's tugging on his pant leg with a paw.]
Hey? I'm hungry. Feed me.
[ England's in the apartment as well, mainly because America told him to watch over
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He looks so pitiful and defeated.]
That's all he needed me for, eh?
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I have no bloody idea.
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After this event is over, Canada might actually become suicidal.]
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What's her name?
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[He blinks slowly, because that takes way too much effort. He stares at the spoon again.]
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[ don't make him make buzzy noises ]
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[If he was with it at all, this is where he'd sputter and flail and deny everything, because oh god, did America tell everyone about her? But it's not and he didn't and he doesn't so.]
I don't have one.
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Nobody would... even consider. Don't waste your time, eh?
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You ought to un-learn it, you know.
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[This might be a better argument if he wasn't speaking so soft and so flat. He... fine, he'll have another spoonful.]
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If you're a brainless frog, perhaps.
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