Sometimes Revenge Is Best Not Served At All

Author's Note: I'm gifting this fic to my friend Talia, who beta read it after reading Sea Shanties And Sober Siblings Don't Mix and finally asked "WHERE ARE YOU FINDING ALL THESE SONGS?" to which I got to respond "My sister."
Thanks for putting up with all my bullshit, Bread.

Links to the versions of the shanties. I recommend listening while reading to get the full experience.
Little Sailor Put On Your Pants-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GAhBzB3hap4
The Swallow-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07lHgbDj-cM
Roll Me Over in the Clover-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDkRG-axoZg
The Scotsman-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLCB88K21pc
Motion of the Ocean-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlZEaS6j53Y

A note on names:
Ireland-Siobhan
Nyo! Ireland-Patrick (Yes, in my world he's the Nyo.)
Wales-Owen
Nyo! Wales-Elaine
Scotland-Alasdair
Nyo! Scotland-Scarlet
England-Arthur
Nyo! England-Alice
Northern Ireland-Brendan
Nyo! Northern Ireland-Bridget

The door opened and shut, and Patrick gazed through tired eyes at his brothers. "So why have we gathered here at three AM? And why was it so bloody important?"

Arthur was already fiddling with a piece of paper while Alasdair spoke. "It's simple. Revenge."

"For what?" Patrick asked, taking his seat.

"The little video the girls put together, apparently." Owen muttered, looking like he was about to pass out on the table. "Something Art wants us to do."

"Then count me out." Patrick said, starting to stand back up to head back to bed.

Arthur looked up. "Please Patrick! I don't like having the threat of Antonio's battle ax coming through my door without having some way to even the playing fields!"

"Would you be surprised to find out that I don't care?"

Alasdair spoke again. "Pat, you and Antonio get along alright, but consider this a chance to play a prank on Alice."

There's a pause, and the three younger brothers look at Ireland, who seems to be using all the mental power he can summon at three AM in order to make this important decision. What will be better in the long run? Leaving Arthur to his fate, or pranking Alice?

"Owen, why are you doing this shit?" He finally asks.

"Honestly, I just want to see what would happen if Elaine got really drunk, which is apparently part of the plan?" Owen responds, slumping over. "My saintly twin's got to be hiding something. Also, I wanted Arthur to stop slamming his fist into my bedroom door until I got up and answered him."

"Good reasons. Alright, I'm in. Siobhan can outdrink everyone in this room, so it's not like I'm gonna get blackmail on her out of this." Patrick said, sitting back down.

Arthur grinned. "Thanks, Pat-"

"Let's get this clear now. Your involvement in leading this prank in inconsequential to me. I'm doing this to watch Alice suffer." Patrick says. "Alright. Plan."

Arthur stood up, as though his brilliant plan deserved to be treated like schematics for a glorious battle. "We get them to go out drinking with one of us. Do the normal activities, you know, and then, once they're drunk, we trick them into singing some bawdy songs of their own. Secretly film it, and viola! We have our own blackmail material!" Arthur says.

There's silence.

"One problem, oh idiot baby brother." Alasdair says. "They don't trust any of us worth shit right now. We have as much influence over them as an egg has over a rock." Owen raises an eyebrow, and Alasdair hushes him before he can speak. "I know it's a weird comparison but Arthur did wake us all up at three AM, so consider that I'm not exactly awake yet."