[Have a Canada. Have a Canada mumbling to himself as he stands in front of the stove, making pancakes.
Have him death-glaring the syrup on the counter next to him with a venom most people wouldn't think he possesses.]
...maple my tundra.
[That's right. Canada bought 'maple' syrup. Except it's not up to his standards, not being actual maple
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[Contempt for shoddy imitations. You can has it.]
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[Shuddeeeeeeeer.]
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It's not right!
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Maple your what? Sounds like a lizard or somethi--ACHOO!
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Now- would you like syrup on your pancakes?
[Oh yeah- he's definitely foisting that... that abomination off on you, brother dear.]
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Yeah! What're [coughcough] what're pancakes without syrup?
[he won't know the difference, he'll probably call it the best thing ever]
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Right, right- whatever you like...
[So long as he doesn't have to finish off that so-called 'syrup'.]
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And oh dear-- I'm sorry! I forgot to tell you, didn't I? Alfred and I live in a little place in the shopping district...
[Directions go here now~!]
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[No! Focus, Matt- there's maple at stake here!]
Well- if you're sure it's not too much trouble- I really appreciate it!
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[A slight grimace.]
It's not really maple syrup, eh?
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