Romano, the unofficial leader of the club, was first.
"Ve~ Grazie for letting us interview you, fratello!" Italy chimed, ecstatic. Romano huffed and rolled his eyes. He seemed tired.
Romano crossed his arms and glared at Germany, who was unluckily chosen to interview him, "Hurry up and ask the questions, Potato Bastard. I don't have all day."
"Ah, yes. My apologies." He rushed, trying not to anger the tiny italian.
"Ahem- question one, what is your name?"
Romano rolled his eyes at the basic question. "Romano. Romano Vargas."
"Your human name?"
"...Lovino. Goddamn Potato bastard..." He muttered, the obvious dislike for his name was clearly apparent.
"Okay, what is your position in the Non-Country Theap-"
"Anti-Country Club. Get it right."
Germany sighed. He was clearly going to be a pain to interview, "Right, what's your position in the 'Anti-Country Club'"
"You have amnesia or what? I'm the goddamn president."
"What do you do during the meetings?"
Romano seemed to actually give this one some thought, unlike the last two. "What do we do? Well, mostly we just watch movies and give coping mechanisms out. We have therapy sessions, but it's not as popular. Sometimes Hawaii or the other little ones try to give out one-on-one comfort sessions, they're popular with the more older ones, like China's or India's provinces. A lot of the time, it's arguments and angry crafts organized by me or some lesson plan one of us found in the guidance counselor's desk."
As Romano continued to ramble on, Germany tried his best to write down everything he said. It was clear that South Italy clearly was passionate about his club, even when no other country cared.
"It seems like you all do a lot. You said that you have therapy sessions. Can anyone join or is it just people in the group?"
"...Anyone, actually. It's just no one comes. This entire thing is welcome to everyone, it's just that most of us are pretty...jaded to the countries. I do think that Seychelles came by once, though. Most of us liked her, but she never came by again, and all the other countries that tried to sit in were bastards that always complained and whined about every little thing when someone was talking. We started to avoid the countries after that."
"Oh, well, that's a pity. Anyway, how does a regular meeting go?"
"..." Romano's face grew tired and embarrassed. It seemed like he was deciding how to answer without offending his fellow clubmates he grew close with, "Uh, you'd have to see for yourself..."
"...You're not going to tell me, aren't you?"
"I don't have to tell you anything, potato bastard"
"Okay then. Well, next question." Germany seemed used to Romano's abrasiveness.
Meanwhile, the Vice President of the club, Southern California, was being interviewed by Italy, and it was going as well as you'd expect for someone whose personality is 50% Hollywood.
"Ve~ Ciao! I'm gonna be interviewing you today~" Italy said, happy to be looking at a bella.
SoCal gave him her signature Hollywood smile, "Like, great! Let's get the show started!~ I'm like, so hyped, and excited for this!"
"Question one, What's your name?"
"My name? Southern California, baby! I go by SoCal or South, though." She said, as if she had said this over and over again. Nonetheless, it was filled with excitement. SoCal always loved attention.
