How I Got Into This Situation [one-shot]

How I Got Into This Situation

I covered my face as I glanced over at America, who was standing on the table.

"Stop, you are embarrassing us." I hissed at him, who ignored me.

"Good day, everyone! Today, I'll be attempting to beat the World Record of eating a tub of French fries!"

"Chips, you idiot." I mumbled. "I thought you spoke English."

"Really?!" some irrelevant bystander gasped. "What's the current record?"

"50 seconds and 96 milliseconds!"

"No one can beat that." she scoffed. 

"Wanna bet?" I glared at her, and she shrugged in return. Geez, some people were just so ignorant sometimes. Didn't they know he was the United States of America?

The people in the store crowded around our table to watch America stuff himself to beat a World Record. 

And I couldn't wait when he failed to tell him off for such a stupid idea.

However half a minute later, the audience was cheering as America jumped on his chair, beating the record by twenty seconds.

I groaned. I had only asked him if he would like a drink, of course he turned it into a fiasco. 

[----]

Good evening. I am the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and I bet you're wondering how I got into this situation.

[----]

Well, it all began last week when I was with my brothers at one of our favourite pubs.

[----]

Scotland hiccupped, his cup of beer wobbling as his hand shook. 

"I can't believe my baby brothers are finally growing up..." he slurred, whacking us on the backs.

"Sod off, mate." Wales grumbled, throwing his beer on the floor, grumpily.

I glanced over at Northern Ireland, the only sober one left. 

"This is why I never go bloody drinking with you lot." he groaned. 

"Nonsense.." Scotland protested weakly. "You're just jealous. You wish you could hold yeeer..." 

Northern Ireland blinked. "No, not really. You can't hold your liquor at all."

"Excuse youuu..."

Wales proceeded into drunkenly shoving Scotland's drink off the counter. 

They began to fight each other, as I started to cry a bit and Northern Ireland just looked fed up with all of us. 

Which he probably was.

He managed to get us all out of the bar and into his car, where he began to lecture us, not that we were listening. 

A minute into this lecture of his, Scotland poked me in the ribs.

"What?" I muttered, shoving his hand away. His stupid breath was in my face. 

It was obvious he was still very, very drunk.

"How is the young American?" he giggled. 

"He's not young anymore!" I gasped. "He's old!"

"Don't flatter yourself, the only one who's old is you." Northern Ireland mumbled, but I heard it. 

"Shut up!" 

"Scottie does have a good point though..." Northern Ireland continued, ignoring the Brit. "We haven't seen America in a while... How is he?"