New Jersey pranks people. Indiana plants apples. Oklahoma sings a song. And Washington goes to war over a dead pig... All in all, it's just a normal day for the 50 States of America.
"America: 50☆Stars (Vol. 4)" is the fourth volume of a Hetalia fan...
Exactly thirteen years ago, the Oregon Treaty resolved the border dispute between British Canada and the United States. At least, it was supposed to resolve the issue. Settlers of the Pacific Northwest soon discovered an ambiguity in the treaty, collectively called the San Juan Islands. The small group of islands was located in the middle of a channel that separated the land of both nations. Nothing in the treaty specified the sovereignty of these islands, yet everyone in the area assumed it was theirs—including the Colony of Vancouver Island.
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The Colony of Vancouver Island was a young territory of the almighty British Empire. For the past decade, the ten-year-old girl worked for the Hudson's Bay Company (HBC) and made a living by selling furs, lumber, and coal. She hoped the fruits of her labor would attract settlers and help her grow strong. Unfortunately, England had a strict criterion that deterred migrants from moving to her home. Instead, those migrants went to Oregon and California for the prospect of free land and gold. To say she was bitter about the circumstances would be an understatement. When her sister, New Caledonia, discovered gold on the mainland, her exasperation toward American settlers grew deeper. It was embarrassing enough to hear her sister doing well as a separate crown colony blessed with a new name by Queen Victoria. It was much worse becoming a tent city for thousands of entitled American prospectors, merchants, land agents, and speculators. She could barely stand the squatters, much less stand on her own as she was on the brink of becoming stone broke. Still, Vancouver Island resisted requests to join houses with British Columbia, insisting she was still capable of maintaining her affairs.
As proof of her fortitude, Vancouver Island asserted her claim on San Juan Island, giving a giant middle finger to manifest destiny.
"No need to fear, my loyal flock," Vancouver Island spoke lovingly to the sheep she had been raising on the island. "Though I'm too poor to afford my own police and militia, I promise to protect all of you with every fibre of my being—"
BANG!
"Bloody hell!" Vancouver Island recoiled at the sound of the gunshot in the summer air. "Those Yanks and their darn guns. I swear they're always up to no good. I wish they just disappear from the island and leave me in peace..." She gritted her teeth. "Y-You know what? Enough is enough. Just like the War of 1812, I'm gonna give those Yanks a piece of my mind and make known this place belongs to me." She went away from her sheep in search of the careless trigger-happy Americans responsible for startling them.
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Vancouver Island roamed the pastures of Belle Vue Farm until she came across a couple of young boys arguing on a small crudely-constructed farm.
"Idiot! This is all your fault! We're in so much trouble because of you!" Washington yelled.
"It isn't my fault!" Idaho whined with a shotgun in his grasp. "You made me do it!"
