Part 1
“This is so not cool,” Prussia stated as he laid down on the hard, uncomfortable mat of the jail bed. Yes, jail.
Spain smiled slightly. “No objection here.”
The noise of a door being unlocked was heard, then steps and a very pissed off voice. “... can be fuckin' grateful that I came here in the middle of the night to pay the bail!”
Prussia stood up and walked over to the bars where Spain watched the newcomers.
One moment later Romano appeared in their range of vision, followed by a tired looking police officer.
Spain's face lightened up instantly – contrary to Romano's, who glared at him now. “Roma-”
“What the fuck do you think you're doing here, dumbass?!”
“Uhm... Being imprisoned and... hoping that my adorable Romano will get me out of here?”
Prussia sighed and went to lie down again. Nobody would come to get him out of here, anyway. He'd just serve his sentence and then seek for France and kill him... slowly.
He could hear Romano fluster. “Wh-What...! I'm gonna leave you here! I should never have come!”
“No, Romano, wait! I'm sorry!”
“Sorry for leaving me alone in that damn huge house of yours and not coming home for hours? For making me fuckin' worry about you?! What?”
“Aw, Romano!” Spain couldn't help but smile – which only made things worse. Romano crossed his arms and turned around. “I'm sorry! I won't do it again!”
“Yeah, you better don't...” Romano mumbled as the police officer finally unlocked the door and let Spain out.
He looked back at Prussia. “Uhm...”
“It's okay,” the other one waved his hand lazily. “I'm alright. Just go.”
“I could-”
But at this instant, Germany stepped in – seeming even more pissed off than Romano (who shouted, “Ah! Potato bastard!” as he saw him). “Big brother! What have you done to be arrested, for heaven's sake?!”
Prussia – obviously surprised – jumped up. “West! Why are you here?”
“You called me!”
“... I did?”
Silence. Prussia had been so confused about tonight's events that he didn't really recognize calling his little brother but... oh well. It was an awesome idea to do so.
“A-Anyway, we're going now...” Spain announced while being dragged out by a scowling Romano.
“Huh?” The albino looked at him. “Yeah, okay. And if you see France – tell him his ass is mine.”
After Germany had paid the bail for his brother, the two of them got into the car. It was Prussia's, for Germany's was still full of pasta and Bolognese sauce because of Italy's futile attempt to cook in the car while Germany was driving.
After a few minutes, Germany, behind the wheel, asked awkwardly, “Uhm... big brother?”
“What?”
“Why do you only have one shoe?”
“Because that France bastard pulled off the other one,” Prussia grumbled. “I swear, when I see him- Halt!”
Something had just stumbled out of the bushes right in front of the car. Prussia narrowed his eyes at that thing – it was human. Or... kinda.
“Speak of the devil,” Germany muttered and turned off the engine.
France collapsed when Prussia opened the door. For some reason (but France didn't really need one) he was only wearing his boxers. Well, and Prussia's left shoe.
“Where are all the condoms you took with you?” Prussia asked condescendingly but the now unconscious France didn't answer. So Prussia snorted and crouched down in the spotlight of his own car to get his shoe back.
“Is he alright?” Germany asked and wanted to get out of the car as well but Prussia stopped him with a gesture.
“Stay in there.”
Once he had put his shoe on again, he went back and got into the car, leaving France lying in the middle of the street and in front of the car. He slammed the front-seat passenger door shut and said, “Go ahead.”
Germany blinked. “I'd run him over!”
“Yeah.” Prussia smirked. “That's why. Go ahead.”
“I can't do that.”
“Geez, West, you're such a wimp. Let be behind the wheel, I-”
“No.”
Prussia grimaced as his brother got out to heave up the barely dressed body of France. He dragged him beside the car but there was no place on the back seats. They were full of crates of beer.
Germany had no choice. He stowed France in the trunk, feeling like a mafioso.
“Maybe he'll suffocate if we leave him there,” Prussia suggested hopefully.
“Why do have so much beer in here anyway?” Germany asked and ignored what his brother just said when he sat down again and started the motor.
“So you can drink while driving,” he answered earnestly.
Germany was – distraught. “Tell me you're kidding.”
The albino blinked, then started laughing. “Of course I am.” Saying this was much easier than insisting on the truth. Germany glanced at him unconvincedly.
He decided to change the topic. “Why have you been arrested anyway? I thought you, France and Spain wanted to... do a pub tour?”
Prussia snorted. “What's with this phrase? Sounds like something England would say! Oh and apropos – maybe we should stop by his house on the way. He was still unconscious when we left.”
Germany nearly lost control over the car. “WHAT?”
“Yeah, that's why we were arrested! Well, not really... It was the condoms. All France's fault.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
But Prussia kept on babbling. “Actually, it was the Pirate Song. Well, Spain wasn't much help either, drinking tomato juice and not seeing the cops coming... But I think it all started with... Gilbird. Because nobody fed him. It's your fault that I got arrested!”
Germany stopped the car and stared at his brother for a long moment. “What. Do. You. Mean?” he finally managed to say.
The other one looked at him as if it went without saying. It did not.
“You didn't feed Gilbird,” he answered quite matter-of-factly. “And that's the reason Spain and I were arrested.”
“You don't make any sense, big brother,” Germany responded, trying to stay calm. “And why should I feed it anyway? It's your... pet or whatever.”
“It's no pet! It's a combat chick!”
“Whatever.”
“Com! Bat! Chick! Say it.”
“No. Would you just-”
“Combat chick!”
Germany facepalmed. “Okay. Okay. It's a combat chick. And someone should have fed it. Would you now please tell me what happened this night?”
Prussia smirked. Of course he would. He loved to hear himself talk after all.
“Alright. I think we should begin with... the bar. You see, we were in that bar and all three of us were already... a little drunk. And I had Gilbird with me...”
~
Find out what happened in the next chapter!
Part 2
Gilbird was hungry. And to him, France's eyes looked like a fresh earthworm as they glinted. Enough said.
“Why does that creature look at me like that?” France asked awkwardly as the little bird hopped over the counter towards him.
“It's not a creature,” Prussia retorted. “It's a combat chick. And maybe he tries to read your mind.”
France blinked. “It can do that?”
“Of course he can,” Prussia said proudly, swallowing a mouthful of beer. “I am the one who trains him after all.”
“I don't thinks birds can-” Spain started but gasped instead, when suddenly the chick attacked France. And it was really an attack. Not even Prussia had seen that coming. Gilbird dashed into France's face, his sharp beak aiming at his left eye. “Aïe!”
The blond shoved the bird away, whining. “Prussia! Did you also teach him to pick out one's eyes?” he asked and covered the left half of his face with his hand.
The albino was bewildered. “No, I didn't... yet. Hey, he can teach himself! Well done, Gilbird!”
“Well done, my arse! That creature aimed for my eye!”
“Don't cry me a river, you've still one eye left!”
France turned towards Spain. “Spain, my friend... You're on my side, aren't you?”
Spain, not willing to answer that question, carefully pulled France's hand down to take a look at his eye. “Ah, he didn't hit the eye directly,” he said. “You won't go blind or anything.”
Still unconvinced, France dug a little mirror out of his pocket and watched his reflection. There was only a little scratch under his eye. It didn't even bleed. Anyway- “MY FAAACE!” France cried and not few people turned their heads to look at them. “LOOK WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!”
“It wasn't that beautiful to begin with,” Prussia muttered. “Not like mine...”
France wanted to strangle him but the chick, now sitting calmly on Prussia's head and staring at him, scared him away. Instead, he hissed, “Ta mère!”
“What?!” Prussia glared at him. He couldn't translate France's words but he was quite sure he'd just been insulted.
“A-Anyway,” Spain cut them off before they could start a real fight. “You could use an eye patch to hide it, France.”
Prussia snorted with laughter and France pulled a face. “Do I look like a pirate? Come on, eye patches are so unsexy!”
“Yo ho,” Prussia commented, still laughing.
Due to the alcohol, after two minutes they were sitting next to each other, France in the middle with his arms around their shoulders, swaying back and forth and singing the Pirate Song. “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot. Drink up me hearties, yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me hearties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me...”
“You know...” France babbled after they had finished the song a second time, “we totally pwn England here by drinking and singing pirate songs... I kinda wanna rub his nose in it.”
“Oookay!” Prussia got up from his seat, distinctly staggering. “Let's go and diss England! Kesesese...”
He ran into a wall twice before finding the exit.
England was already asleep when someone started to incessantly bang on the front door.
“What the bloody hell...?” He blinked tiredly and sat up in his bed. Now he could even hear laughter. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was 1 a.m.!
“I hope it's not Sealand again, trying to be funny or something...” he muttered, opened the window and stuck his head out. “What do you-”
He interrupted himself when he recognized the three persons in front of his house. “Oh no, not you guys. Leave me alone! Last time you came here was because Prussia had to throw up and-”
“That's not very nice of you,” Prussia interrupted him before England could tell the whole story of that disgraceful evening a few weeks ago. “We only want to show you something!”
“You woke me up! Whatever it is, I don't want to see it anyway.”
And with those words, the window banged shut.
But the Bad Friends Trio had to live up to their name. They ignored England's will.
He wanted to lay down again when he heard a loud, cracking noise and the front door was burst open.
“You can't escape from us,” France shouted in an odd singsong, giving England the creeps.
“Th-That's not funny,” England stated angrily and came down the staircase to head the three of them off. “You destroyed my door?!” The remains of the wooden front door were spread all over the floor. It looked like they'd blown it away. “How...?”
“Gilbird can let off a laser beam from his eyes, y'know...” Prussia explained collectedly.
England blinked and omitted to believe that. “Get. Out. Of. My. House. Now.”
“You're no fun at all,” France complained and made a pouting face. “We came all the way here to sing a song for you!”
“You – what?” England cogitated. It wasn't his birthday, neither some special holiday he could think of. Not that anyone would have sung for him on these days. Nobody had ever sung something for him. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “I-I don't want to hear it! Go away!”
But the three of them already started their chant. “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me...”
That was definitely not what he had expected. The red color in his face now didn't arise from embarrassment but from anger as they laughed but kept singing and Spain said, “Come on, England, sing along! You used to sing that everyday a few years back.”
The way he said it was kind of carefree and displayed his lenient character.
England backed off. “No way!”
Now they drew nearer and in the dim light they looked kind of scary, chanting with deep voices now and grinning nearly mischievously... “H-Help me!” England cried towards his imaginary friends who stood besides him and – did nothing but stare.
“Sing with us,” Prussia commanded as they paused between the last verse and the refrain. His crimson eyes seemed to glisten dangerously.
Poor England was about to die at this point. He stepped back again, stumbling over... air. Anyway, he toppled over backwards and hit the wall with his head. An involuntary 'headwall'. He slumped to the ground, obviously unconscious.
Spain, France and Prussia stopped singing.
“Uhm...” Spain said.
They were silent for a few seconds, then Prussia crouched down and poked England. “Is he dead?”
“Wh-What? Are you implying that we killed England?” France asked panicky.
Spain frowned and crouched down next to Prussia. “Evidently not. He's breathing. Probably just unconscious.”
Again silence. Prussia and Spain raised, then France burst out laughing. “Let's strip him!”
“No!” the other two responded in unison.
“Aw, why not?”
“Because it's gay,” Prussia stated.
France looked at him and blinked. “So what?”
In the end France got his way and undressed the unconscious nation except for his underwear. (Prussia insisted. “Because cute little Gilbird shouldn't have to see such a thing!”) When he had finished, he stood up, looking at the others in excitement. “What are we going to do next?”
Spain shrugged. “We could make him a mummy. You know, wrap him in toilet paper. I guess it would be funny.”
Prussia and France were immediately on fire. They rifled through England's closets, finding a lot of interesting and things, but no toilet paper anywhere besides two rolls of it in the bathroom. But that surely wouldn't be enough.
It was Prussia who eventually came up with the idea. (And retrospectively, after listening to the whole story, Germany concluded that all three of them were to blame for Prussia and Spain being imprisoned.) “Let's break into a drugstore and just steal some!”
“That's criminal,” Spain started, but France and Prussia were already on their way outside.
“It would be if we were human,” France explained factually. “But those rules don't apply to us.”
Finding a drugstore and then breaking the door open wasn't very difficult – thanks to Gilbird and his laser beam. Once the door was open, the chick spread its wings and flew away. Prussia watched it disappear, waving. “Good night, Gilbird!”
“Where is it going?” France asked warily.
“Home,” Prussia answered and entered the drugstore. Either it had no alarm system or it was one that informed a nearby police station without making any noise. The three nations didn't think about it. “He's tired.”
France cocked his eyebrows. “How do you know?”
“Telepathy.”
And after that, France decided not to ask any more questions about Gilbird. Ever again.
From somewhere between the aisles at the farther end of the store he could hear Spain make a delighted “Aw!” sound.
“What is it?” he asked, drifting along the aisles.
“They've got tomato juice!”
France gave a laugh and Prussia, prowling somewhere near the cash register, said, “Good for you.”
A few minutes later it was France who enchanted. “Condoms!”
Prussia appeared at the end of the aisle. “Where?”
“Here.” France pointed at the shelf in front of him. “Ah, I have to refresh stores anyway...” And then he began shoving condom packages into his pockets. Prussia came nearer, seeming a bit wary and eying France suspiciously. “What?” The blond asked him, smiling overconfidently. “I need that much.”
Prussia couldn't just leave it at that. “W-Well, me too!” he retorted and began to eagerly stuff his pockets with condoms. “I need even more than you! An awesome guy like me is always desperately wanted, after all... Thanks to my irresistible sex appeal!”
France's eyes narrowed a bit, then he clicked his tongue and picked more. “I don't think you need more than me,” he replied with a wintry smile.
“Yes I do.”
“You don't.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“YES!”
“NO!”
Both of them kept shoving condoms into their pant and coat pockets while furiously shouting at each other. Meanwhile, Spain went around calmly, drinking tomato juice and humming the Pirate Song. His back was turned towards the door so he didn't see police car approaching the store until it was already too late.
“I DO NEED MORE THAN YOU!”
“NO, I NEED MORE THAN YOU!”
They started to fight seriously now, beating the the living daylights out of each other. Condoms were tossed all over the store.
Somehow – and God knows why -, France pulled off Prussia's shoe, raised and held it up like an odd kind of trophy. “I need more! Ha!”
“No, you-”
“What are you doing here?”
Spain turned around – facing a very angry looking police officer. “Oh – hi. Tomato juice?” He offered some, but the officer didn't want it.
At the same moment, however, Prussia and France stared at the two cops who had just arrived and while Prussia was still trying to find the right words, France cast himself aside and dashed through the window to get outside.
“What the-?!” Prussia didn't want to believe his eyes as he saw France running away into the darkness, laughing loudly and still holding up the shoe. “Y-YOU BASTARD! STAY HERE!”
He wanted to run after him but the second cop had already got a hold of him. Prussia and Spain were arrested because of trespass, willful damage of property and attempted thievery.
“... And that's why we were in jail,” Prussia finished. “Do you see how this is all France's fault?”
Germany, who'd been silent the whole time, now sighed tiredly. “I feel sorry for England,” he muttered.
Prussia frowned. “Is that all you have to say? Hellooo, I am the victim here! They didn't even let me keep the condoms!”
His brother blushed and said nothing.
“So,” Prussia's facial expression turned serious. “Now that you've heard the story – can we get him out of the trunk and run him over?”
