Disclaimer: HA, SILLY ME, I thought I could avoid it, BUT I CAN'TTTTT TTwTT Don't own, says so on my profile D;

Cast
Aladdin - America / Alfred
Genie - UK / Arthur
Jafar - France / Francis
Sultan - Canada / Matthew
Princess Jasmine - Russia / Ivan
Nordics - Group of Thieves
Various other Cast - You'll figure it out as you read.

.,x.{Last Chapter…}.x,.

"Matthew observed him, a thought (quite a few actually) raced through his features and his mouth slowly curled into a grin, Alfred was pretty sure the room dropped a few degrees in temperature.

"Since you seem so confident in your skills, Master thief," the Sultan's eyes glinted dangerously; Ivan definitely took after his father, "I would like you to gamble your life."

.,x.{Start}.x,.

"…Do you have a 8?"

"No, go fish," The Sultan grinned as his challenger cursed profanities at the inanimate pieces of paper, "Do you…have a queen?" He grinned even wider as the American handed over the card grudgingly.

"Do youuuuu…have an Ace?" Matthew smiled, the other accepted the card triumphantly; Matt only had one card left. "Hey! Don't get all cocky and confident on me! Just 'cause you have one card left doesn't mean that I'll have—"

"Do you have a King?"

"FUCK. YOU'RE A FUCKING HACK, AREN'T YOU?!"

The blond laughed as the other jumped up and started tantruming on the floor, "Now..." he drawled, "Since you lost…I want you to get something back for me."

.,x.{~}.x,.

The mighty hero in the wild is a willful creature. So willful, in fact, that it will not back down from a challenge empty handed.

"Hey! How much for those tomatoes?"

The smiling Spaniard plopped down a box of cucumbers and jogged (merrily) over, "5 each."

"I'll take two for 6?"

The smile widened, "5 Each."

"2 for the price of one?"

"5 each."

"Fine! God! I thought I'd be treated with more respect working for the king (hint hint, nudge nudge)!"

The man didn't even flinch, "5 Each."

A sigh, "Take you're damn money then." The Hero...is not completely empty handed! (?!)

.,x.{~}.x,.

Clatter, clatter, clatter, silence; the silhouette stopped behind a bush located in front of the hideout, his head turning in every which direction as he checked that no one else was around.

"So…here I am outside the Bandit's cave…" He whispered to no one in particular, breath already ragged from the journey here-those damn hamburgers!

"The hero does not sense any immediate danger, will approach closer and assess threat." Humming the Jaw's theme song to himself, he quickly ninja'd his way to the next bush and froze, staring intently into the pitch black cavern.

"…Wh't y' do'ng?"

"Shhh! I'm planning a raid."

"Wh' y' r'iding?"

"The Nordics who live in that cave," Point.

"Th' N'rds d'n l've th'r."

"Sure they do--! They don't…?!" Alfred whipped around to stare flabbergast at his companion, only to let out a blood curling scream (actually, it was pretty girly), "AHHHH!!! IT'S A MONSTER…!!"

The Giant man ignored him as he grabbed Alfred and spun him around, "Th' N'rds l've th'r."

"AHHhhhh--? What?"

There it was, the coziest little nook on this side of the Sahara and it belonged to the Nordics, and before he could even utter a meep, the man had him by the collar as he dragged him to the estate.

.,x.{~}.x,.

The place was nicely furnished to say the least, as if it had come out of an IKEA magazine. The blond glanced around as he shimmied his ass deeper into the cushions; they were very comfy, and covered in little floral patterns!

Suddenly, his attention was turned to watch as a brash, young male came crashing –literally- though the living room entrance, and loveseat, and lamp, and coffee table…ouch; only to jump back a little as the man bolted back upright to point a dagger at his throat.

"AHA! You're here to fight me aren't you?!"

"Uhhh…no."

"I KNEW IT--!" The spiky-haired blond threw his arms up in triumph, only to have them fall back to his sides a second later, "What?!"

"Actua—"

"Oh! Oh! I know! You're here to steal our treasure!"

"Well…sort—"

"Oh god, ewwwww, so you're really not here to fight me?"

"No, not really—"

"Ugh," sigh, "Su-san can take care of you then." The European stood, dusted himself off and headed back towards the living room entrance.

"Su-san? Who the fuck is Su-san?" Rustling, Alfred turned to see the man that had dragged him here step out of the shadow and approach him.

"WhaaAAHHHomfghe'sgonnamurdermeWAIT!"

The older man turned, "I just need a lamp!"

"A Lamp?" Both turned to look at the shattered lamp discarded, rather unlovingly, on the floor.

"No no no! Not that one! The Sultan's lamp, he said he lost it to you guys in a bet but he wants it back."

"Ohhhhhh…that dingy thing? Why didn't you just say so?" The man disappeared past the door, silence pressed down on Alfred and 'Su-san', he glanced over carefully and gave the taller man a nervous twitch of a smile.

Su-san smiled (?) back.

Alfred swallowed a scream, than a yelp as something was chucked at him. Looking down into his hands, he saw the golden lamp.

"This is it?" He asked, confused.

"Yup, that's it."

"You're just gonna…give it to me?"

"Well, why not? We're done with it."

"Rea…really?"

"Yea, the stupid bugger would only give us three wishes for the lot of us anyways…and I sorta wasted them all…" He cast a furtive glance at Su-san, who seemed to be glaring daggers at him at the moment.

"So…I can leave?"

"Why not?"

"We—well, I mean, with you guys being thieves and all, don't you have some sort of "We steal from you but you don't steal from us" code?"

"Well, yea, but Matthew's like really scary you know? You're probably the calm before the storm kinda deal."

"Right…" Alfred mutters, sounding not so convinced.

"No, seriously, take it before we make you." Su-san nodded, muttering words of agreement before picking Alfred and the lamp up and dumping them both outside.

.,x.{~}.x,.

Alfred was panting, hard; whatever was in the lamp was fucking heavy. Like, ridiculously heavy for its size. He lifted it up to shake it, whatever was inside was definitely NOT a liquid. He shook it some more, only to jump back as the lamp…cursed profanities?

What? The…fuck. He shook it again, a lot harder this time.

"YOU BLOODY GIT…!" Boomed a voice from the spout hole as some sort of green smoke began to make its way out, "FUCKING BRILLANT, YEA, SHAKE MY HOUSE INTO RUINS YOU WANKER." He…she…it(?) was angry, Alfred dropped the golden lamp and back away…right into a shrubbery that decided it could trip him.

He lay on his back in a daze.

There was a thump from where he had dropped the lamp, he looked up, where did he come from?!

There, standing next to the lamp, dusting himself off was a man with fairly large eyebrows who was scowling at him with great distaste. "Now why'd you have to go an---"

"WHOA, WHERE'D YOU COME FROM?!"

The man looked taken aback, "Wha…well I'm the Genie of the lamp! You do know that don't you? Seeing as how you saved me from those savages and all."

Alfred blinked, feeling a little flustered, "Well, I do suppose I did—""

"But that is beside the point," Alfred sputtered, He was the hero! He's always the point! "I would like you to return me to my proper master now, or pay the consequence."

Alfred sighed, "Look mister, I don't know what the big deal is about the Sultan but he's like, nothing."

The Genie looked affronted, "Have you never heard of the stories?"

"…What stories?"

And that is how Alfred learned of Hockey, and Polar Bears (no one lived to tell the tale of why they were called Polar Bears), and the dreaded Tim Horton's. Oh how dreadful that Tim Horton's was…and promptly decided to return the lamp to Matthew.

Of course, upon returning the lamp, Sultan Matthew said he'd give him a reward for his hard effort and gave (shoved?) Princess Russia over to Alfred as a gift. Alfred was ecstatic, that is, until the honeymoon; that's when he experienced the stories for himself.

.,x.{~}.x,.

"You called me, your majesty?" Francis bowed, not wanting to be rude to his bitch King.

The younger man glared (awe, he's so cute!) down at him before bringing out a golden lamp from behind him and rubbing it. Out of the spout emitted a green smoke that -for a second- Francis thought was poison and jumped away from the –sometimes- crazy man.

Instead, a somewhat older man with bushy eyebrows (and a nice ass, Francis noted) appeared when the green fog disappeared and bowed to the Sultan, "What is your command, my King?"

"Actually…what is your wish, Francis?"

Francis cocked an eyebrow in confusion, "Excuse moi?"

"Well, you know, you said you'd change your mind –and hopefully leave me alone- if I could compensate? So I'll grant you one wish, but after you have to listen to me."

The older blond grinned, "Fine…" The sultan and the Genie shuddered, "I wish…you two were my sex slaves for our naturally sexually active lives, no; ifs, ands, or buts."

Matthew is horrified.

So is Genie.

.,x.{End}.x,.

End Note – Ok, as you can tell, I fail at writing Su-san's accent so…(is stoned) TwT

I hope you guys liked that! Next installment, I'll be ripping Snow White to shreds x3 (Hint, The whole G8 is involved, guess who they are! :D) Either that, or I'll butcher some other fairy tale, depends which decides to be more crack.

Or…I'll finally have the motivation to post that super angst France-centric.