Pick Me

This is probably a really bad idea to toy with in my first steps of writing hetalia, but thanks for clicking on it!! I write it from the reader's POV for most of it, so read it that way. :) (Also I've heard that fem England is Britain, but he's a guy through the whole thing, I just like saying Britain better and don't like using the same noun/pronoun repeatedly)

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Last night, America burst into my house in pajamas and holding a pillow. It started a crazy night.

"I'm here for the party, bro!" He shouted. I had been upstairs until seconds before, so I had no idea what was going on.

"Party? What party? What'd you do, America?" I groaned.

"Oh right, I forgot to tell you. I invited everyone to a slumber party here!"

"Who is everyone!?" I was now shouting in disbelief. I could swear I heard rustling down here earlier.

"I made a list, sorry it's all crossed out." He ran into the living room, a couple doors down the hall.

"Wait!" I called to him, but it was too late. With an angry sigh, I scanned the list. A couple names jumped at me. Britan; thank god I didn't drink. Prussia; the neighbors would kill me for his noise. America, obviously, meant we would be watching a horror movie, which I hated. I continued reading the list. China, Russia, Canada, Italy, Germany, France, Poland, Lichtenstien...

Wait, FRANCE?!? SLEEPING?!?! IN MY HOUSE?!!!!

I rushed into the den, where I saw all the mentioned countries and then some. They were grouped with their familiars, doing activities that suited them. I noticed only guys and kids were here.

Great.

France was being his usual self, approaching me immediately. "I am looking forward to tonight. You are too, oui?" He winked at me.

"Save it, will you?" I whined, exasperated.

"I know you are." He continued as if I didn't say a word. Britain sneaked up behind him and chopped his head.

"Pervert!" He shouted down. I thanked him and continued to find the next point of concern; anyone who might've stored/brought alcohol. I really didn't want Britain crying on the couch while everyone awkwardly watched (or laughed). I checked every cupboard and found that almost everyone had brought a little treat for the Englishman. German beer, Italian wine, Russian vodka... There was everything but the living embodiment of Bloody Mary in here. I didn't recognize anything as American. Hopefully America just forgot. I pulled out a couple bottles and marched into the den, where America was about to slide in one of Italy's movies.

"AY!!!" I shouted. Everyone turned to me and I continued. "What's all this, then?!" I held up the container closest to my hand; one of Germany's. "What exactly were you planning to do with all this? Even you pigs couldn't drink all his in one night, and certainly not in my house!" There was silence for a moment, then everyone broke out in excuses. Italy whined that Russia made him do it, causing Russia to defend his cause, blaming Poland for having bad drinks ("I only wanted to bring the best instead of settling for low quality, da?") , who then started turning it around on Austria for daring him to prove he had good drinks. Eventually everyone was yelling at each other in complete chaos. "ALRIGHT!!" I shouted again, just before Romano broke a bottle on Ludwig's head. "I'm throwing it all out! I do not want everyone doing stupid things under the influence in my home!" I heard a quiet 'honhonhon' from France's direction. I pointed a thin necked bottle at him, "and especially not from you! I swear you'd rape anyone here but Turkey if you had an excuse!!" The masked man opened his mouth to retaliate, then realizing it was probably good to leave be, leaned back into the couch.