Drawing Stuff

Story I'll never write

I didn't proof read a lot of this cuz this isn't supposed to be a serious story idea, but yknow
Tw: FrUK

It was a normal day

"BITCH BOY COME BACK OR ELSE I'LL SKIN YOUR MICROSCOPIC DICK," France quickly grabbed a pillow and threw it in her husband's general direction, awash with fury.

"YOU DO THAT AND I'LL TAKE THE CHILDREN FOR DNA TESTING," Britain yelled back, only narrowly dodging the pillow and grabbing his own.

"WHY DON'T YOU TRUST ME AMERICA IS YOURS,"

"WHY WON'T YOU LET ME CHECK IF YOU'RE SO ADAMANT? YOU SHOULDN'T CARE, FROG,"

They were keeping their distance, the sofa between them, knowing that if they stepped even one step closer the other would tear them to shreds.

Why are they fighting, you ask?

Britain forgot to fix the deep freezer.

...

Yeah, I know.

But to be honest, he was supposed to do it last year.

And even then, Britain had been doing nothing but sulking britishly and watching pirated Gordon Ramsay Kitchen Nightmares on a suspicious website.

France accepted that part of him ages ago, but now he was conveniently 'forgetting' things to avoid doing stuff, she just knew it. Yes, he has a 9-5 job which he takes very seriously, but it's not like housework is an easy task. This time, he'd went too far.

"OUR. FOOD. IS. DEADDDDDDDDDDDDD. YOU. BASTARDDDDDDDDDDDD," France screamed, this time throwing a book, interestingly titled How to Know if Your Marriage is Failing by none other than Britain himself. When France pointed out how everything mentioned in the book reflected their own marriage, Britain told her he had no idea what she was talking about. It's giving, gaslighting, as America told her just last week. She should have listened.

"JUST BUY NEW FOOD. I PAY FOR THAT SHIT, BY THE WAY,"

"HAHAHAHA JUST BARELY. YOUR INFLATION IS RISING HIGHER THAN AMERICA'S OBESITY RATE,"

America popped his head round the door to look offended. "Thanks for giving me body ima-"

"SHUT UP FATASS," Both his parents shouted at him.

He pouted and americanly sashayed away.

"OH, SO WHAT IF MY INFLATION IS RISING? ATLEAST PEOPLE PREFER ME OVER YOUR ASS,"

"SORRY I DON'T SPEAK FATHERLESS,"

"YOU KILLED YOUR MUM,"

"LOVINGLY,"

"YOU HAVE HER ROTTING HEAD IN THE CLOSET!"

"JUST LIKE HOW OUR FOOD IS ROTTING BECAUSE OF YOUUUUUUUU!"

France blindly took a vase and threw it at Britain's head with all her might.

It was slow motion, as if it was giving France a moment to feel a faint but sickly sensation of 'wait, what am I throwing?' whilst she let go. But it was too late.

It shattered upon impact, and after a moment of shock, Britain collapsed.

The room fell silent, France's posed arm in mid air, her eyes wider than possible. She stared at Britain's lifeless body.

"Merde," she whispered.

She rushed to the body, shaking his shoulders and yelling at him to wake up, breathe, move, anything. She would much prefer his annoying face than this expression. This wasn't the Britain she knew. He was emo, yes, but atleast he was expressive about it.