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The sun was setting over Moscow, casting long shadows across the small gathering in Russia’s apartment. America sat with a goofy grin, a bit too excited for his own good. “I know Russia gets a bad rap,” he admitted, “but you guys have been the best friends a tourist like me could ask for.”
Russia gave him a friendly pat on the back. “It’s been a pleasure, American. After this, we’ll take you to the airport. No problem.”
Just then, Belarus entered with a concerned look. “Wait, Russia, we have a problem. We’re four people, but the Uber only has room for three.”
“Perhaps we should play a game to solve this problem,” Ukraine suggested, leaning in with a mischievous smirk.
America looked at her, wary. “Uh… what game exactly?”
Russia, unbothered, set a heavy metal object down on the table—a rather ominous-looking gun. America took one look and promptly passed out, collapsing onto the floor with a loud thud.
Belarus blinked down at him, unamused. “What’s with him?”
Russia shrugged. “I don’t know. But now that we have the ‘gun’ out, we can play our game!”
With that, he reached behind the couch and pulled out a gleaming Pie Face Cannon.
“Woo!” Ukraine cheered. “Most intense game ever!”
America stirred, opening one eye to see the gun aimed in his direction. He quickly covered his face in horror. “Guys, no! I’m not playing that game!”
“Why so scared?” Ukraine teased. “It’s just a kid’s game.”
“Russian Roulette is a kid’s game to you guys?! You must have had very dark childhoods.”
Belarus waved him off. “Come on, it’s fun! Just hope you don’t get hit in the face.”
“I know how Russian Roulette works!” America shot back, looking traumatized.
Russia chuckled. “What? No, no. We call it ‘Fun Surprise in Face.’”
“I… I can’t handle blood!” America stammered.
Belarus shrugged, spun the wheel, and positioned her face in front of the cannon. With a click, the pie arm stayed down, and she exhaled in relief.
“Ho-ho, saved!” Russia cheered.
America’s eyes were wide as saucers. “How can you guys laugh at this?!”
Ukraine nudged him. “It’s more fun if you open your eyes.”
America clamped them shut, unwilling to look. But when Ukraine spun the wheel and clicked the cannon, she, too, dodged the cream. Then, on her next turn, the cannon suddenly fired, splattering her with a hefty pile of whipped cream.
“OH! RIGHT IN THE SCHNOZ!” Russia exclaimed.
“Noo! Bel, why?!” America shouted, horrified.
Belarus looked over, wiping some cream off her face. “That was fun!”
America scrambled back, looking between them in disbelief. “AHHHH! How are you still alive?!”
Belarus blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Russia just laughed, scooping up some cream with a finger and holding it out. “Come on, give it a taste. It’s good!”
America covered his mouth. “You guys are sick! That’s gross!”
Belarus nudged him again, this time with a teasing smile. “Alright, American, your turn.”
America shot up to his feet, his voice quivering. “No way, guys. I’m out—”
But before he could move, Russia grabbed his arm with a mock-threatening grin. “If you quit, you get hit in the head automatically. It’s a rule.”
“Nobody quits,” Ukraine chimed in, nodding solemnly. “Last time I played, I got hit in the head four times.”
America’s jaw dropped. “Have you all developed an immunity to headshots?! What did Chernobyl do to you people?!”
The others just exchanged glances, not sure what he was so worked up about.
“If it makes you feel better,” Russia said, spinning the wheel, “I’ll hold it for you.” The wheel landed on six, and Russia calmly took his own turn. Each time, the click sounded with no pie splat, building the suspense.
America’s hands started shaking. “SIX?! There’s only six slots in the chamber—statistically, I’m already dead!”
Belarus rolled her eyes. “There he goes with his drama again.”
America, however, was in no mood for games. He steeled himself, deciding he wasn’t going down without a fight. Grabbing the gun on the table, he whipped around and fired at Russia, closing his eyes in terror.
When he heard the sound of whipped cream splattering, he cracked one eye open to see Russia wiping pie filling off his face, holding up the pie cannon with a smile.
America’s heart sank. “Oh… I’ve made a huge mistake. Time to go off the grid!”
He dashed toward the door in a panic, but Russia just laughed, shrugging. “Out of all my friends, he still shot me the least"
YOU ARE READING
Random Countryhumans Comedy Stuff(Rewriting)
FanficI do not own the cover Just like you read in the title, this book is a oneshot book No ships, I'm currently rewriting this
