Flag-faces (Countryhumans Story [CH AU])

The Wretched Ladies Bring Annoyingness

There was so much pain in my body that I couldn't even cry about it.

"Oi, get my bloody ex hus- servant OUT OF THIS PAIN!"

Scotland gave me the 'oops sorry' look, but I still gave him the deadly side-eye.
I swear, I hate him sometimes.

"You shouldn't treat people like this," Northern Ireland said, clearly wanting to point the rude finger. "I thought you were trying to make world peace and stop racism."

Michal let out a sadistic laugh and replied, "Well, we were close to that until you idiots came. Weird mashes of colour, wings of birds, obtainment of magic-"

"Magic?" Wales blurted. "Since when?"

I was going to tell Wales to shut up, but Michal continued, "Ah, well you guys being a 'unified country' is magic enough. That's why we are studying you..."

All of us scrunched our faces at once, appalled that we were the centrepiece of their studies.

"Anyway, Rebecca will take you through the tests," Michal gave us a wink, which is unquestionably disgusting, before Rebecca strode into the room.

Ugh, what now?

"Your tests are here!" she sang, placing a bunch of papers and needles in front of us.

"What are the needles for-"

"Scotland, shut your bloody mouth before I rip it off!" I smacked Scotland on the cheek, with him barely reacting. 

Do I really abuse him so much that he doesn't care anymore?

"You guys really do hate each other, don't you?" Rebecca chuckled, handing each of us a piece of paper with printed questions. All I did was glare at them, my eyes starting to burn from the reflection of light their pristine whiteness gave off.

"You have to answer these questions. Truthfully," the black-haired woman said, for once being stern. "We will attach some gadgets onto you for extra precaution.

Rebecca did as she said and started to walk out of the room. She paused for a moment, turned back, and added, "You have fifteen minutes."

I sighed quietly when she closed the door behind her and turned to the others. "So, how about we do this together?"

"Like we can do it without arguing for half an hour straight," Wales muttered sulkily.
"What? I'm being honest," he said when everyone else gave him a glare. "It's literally you guys–I'm not the one murdering you with words!"

Northern Ireland shook her head in disappointment and said, "Let us just get on with it."

First question: How would you describe your household? (Including family)

I didn't get it, why did you need to know this? Our privacy is of importance.

"Stinky, stupid, sorrowful. I can describe it in three words," Scotland said, about to write it down.

"Scotland, no," I snatched his pencil away and put it by my side. "It's not only that-"

"Ugly, appalling, disgraceful, atrocious, chaotic, awful, unstable. How about that?"

I churned with anger, cursing Scotland mentally. "You know what? Write that if you want, I have no care about it anymore."

And would you look at that? He actually wrote it.

"The next question says, 'what do you do for leisure'?" Wales said.

We wrote our responses separately, continuing to the next questions one by one. The last question was one that got me thinking.

"How do you think of your race?"

Northern Ireland pondered on that question and said, "So, what now?"

What was particularly on my mind was: Do I measure this by individual person or as a whole?

"Well, start on Europe first," Scotland said. "England: Dumb, annoying, arrogant-"

"Take that back or I will make you scream bloody murder."

"Me," he continued, ignoring my comment, "Handsome, not annoying, intelligent..."

Pathetic, cocky, gullible...

"Wales: Um, every good virtue."

Wales gave me a questionable look as Scotland continued with his rambling. He only got to his seventh country when Rebecca burst back into the room.

"Don't worry, you still have five minutes left," she said with a nervous grin. She dropped a tattered sack on the ground with a thud and left. Judging the size of the item in there and the pitch of the sound it made, what was in there must've been heavy.

"Are we supposed to ignore that or look in it?" Scotland said, the eagerness he felt written all over his face.

The sack moved a little, a small groan coming from it. Whatever it was, it had an awfully low and distressed voice.

"Well, she never specified, so I'd think of it a bad idea," Northern Ireland stood up and crouched down beside the sack. "Although, I am tempted to see what's inside."

For a moment, I thought I was having a hilarious dream, but the sack toppled over and splatted on top of Northern Ireland, causing her to fall over, too.

"MMPH!" the sack moved some more, which gave outlines of what seemed like human limbs.

Is that a person inside?

"Shiet! Get off of me!"

If Northern Ireland had that deep of a voice, that would be surprising.

In the blink of an eye, a silver blade cut through the hessian, and out came four people tumbling out of the sack.

"Thank Allah that Switzerland had a knife, or I would've died!"

"Shut up, there's more countries here."

The four stared at us, and I identified them as Switzerland, Indonesia, Netherlands and Algeria.

"Are you people UK but broken up? You don't look happy," Algeria said, adjusting her hijab slightly.

"No, we are not," Northern Ireland snapped. "Especially those two." She pointed at me and Scotland, Algeria frowning at us.

"Maybe we should find a-"

"A way out? That has been unsuccessful so far," Scotland cut Switzerland off, jabbing a finger at his question paper. "Would you like to help us?"

Switzerland shrugged but sat himself next to him. "How do you think of your race?"

"Does that mean in 'our country on Earth' or just us?"

Oh, Earth. I forgot that existed.

Scotland made a sound somewhere in between a hiss and a groan. "I don't know, and I don't care. Let's just say, 'it's okay'."

Switzerland frowned at his response, an agonising expression, especially from him.

Following the creak of an ungreased door, an "Are you- WHAT HAVE YOU DONE YOU STUPID VERMIN!? YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO LET THEM OUT!" sounded through the room.

Everyone's eyes were wide like saucers - Michal was throwing a giant tantrum.

"NOW EVERYTHING IS- Oh, never mind, my pizza delivery is here."

...What?

"Well, I'm going to enjoy my pizza with the ladies while Boss' husband takes care of you," the lady was beaming profusely, before wandering off.

In came the worst person I have ever met. A man with dishevelled, short-cut brown hair, a blue T-shirt and beige cargo pants ambled in, seeming proud of himself.

"Why, it was all this effort, catching you guys. My name is Harrison. But call me Mr Tsuo."

I have nothing to type here. ;-;

s.S rohtuA