Canada was hanging out in the entrance of the museum, recognizing he had lost America, and recognizing that this meant he was dead. He had gotten another churro, for when he looked outside he saw a churro salesman standing there. To him it was like the second coming of Christ, so he didn't really think before splitting up with the others to get a churro. A man and woman were walking out of the museum, and Canada stopped them.
"Hi, do you happen to know where the nearest cemetery is?" Canada asked.
"Um... no, I'm sorry, why?" The man said.
"I lost all my friends," Canada said.
"....I'm... sorry to hear that?" The woman said.
"I know right! I was planning on still being alive at the end of the day, but unfortunately, plans change," Canada said. The man and the woman were, needless to say, confused. Canada shrugged them off, since they didn't know the nearest cemetery they held little usefulness to him. "Well, sorry for bothering you, I'll go ask someone else," Canada said politely, before walking off to find someone with cemetery expertise.
At least his churro tasted good. Mexico never made churros. Canada decided to scold Mexico about the lack of churros if he were to ever see Mexico again. But unfortunately, Canada was dead, so the chances of him running into Mexico were rather slim, unless of course Mexico ran into him first.
"CALEB, THERE YOU ARE! WE WERE WORRIED! WHERE WERE YOU?!" Mexico exclaimed, running into Canada.
"I was getting a churro," Canada said.
"WHY DID YOU SPLIT UP WITH US?!?" America exclaimed.
"Cause I was getting a churro," Canada said.
"I THOUGHT WE TOLD YOU THAT IF YOU LOST US YOU'RE DEAD!" Mexico exclaimed.
"Yeah but I was getting a churro," Canada said.
"NEVER DO THAT AGAIN OK?!?" America exclaimed.
"Fine but I was GETTING A CHURRO," Canada exclaimed.
"To be fair, churros are delicious," Mark said.
"Shut it Mark," Casey said.
"Ok," Mark said.
"... well, if all of that's settled, what do you guys want to do next?" Jesús asked.
"I dunno man, it's kinda dark out and I'm a bit tired... maybe we can get some pizza and hang out in the hotel room," America suggested.
"That sounds good enough for me," Mexico said. And so, they got themselves some pizza and went to the trios hotel room.
"Wow... you really booked the most expensive room in the entire hotel," Casey said, looking around the room in awe.
"Yep, only the best for me and my boys," America said.
"Holy sh*t this plain old dress shirt is a thousand dollars?" Mark asked, ransacking the trios shopping spree bags without their permission. "Oh never mind, it's made out of real silk that was handmade in a small secluded area in China..... and out of anything they could've done with that silk they made a simple dress shirt," Mark said. America shrugged.
"It's not about what it looks like, more, what it's made of and how expensive it is," America said.
"You three didn't strike me as rich brats," Casey said.
"Well, we're rich, just not brats," America said.
"I guess so... it's just, I guess I always figured that rich people are entitled and disconnected from reality, but you three seemed relatively down to earth, if not a bit strange," Casey said. America shrugged.
