"Mattie, can we go get hamburgers?"

"No."

"Pleeeeeeeeeease?"

"No."

"But I'm hungrrrrrryyyy-"

"ALFRED, I SAID NO!" Canada slammed his head down on his desk; trying to get some work done while his twin was over was proving to be impossible. America sat in the corner, spinning on Canada's revolving chair and bugging the other nation for hamburgers.

"Mattie~" The incessantly annoying nation had now moved his chair behind Canada, still spinning, and whenever he passed Canada, he would blow on the back of his neck. "Oh Mattie~"

"Alfred, I need to work. Now kindly shut the hell up." Canada was debating whether or not to castrate his twin, and how long it would shut the other man up for.

"But Matt, Matt, Mattiiiiiieeeeeeee, I'm boooooooooooooooored~" America finally got up from his chair and leaned over Canada's shoulder, peering at what he was working on that was so damn important that he'd ignore his hero of a brother.

"Alfred. Move. I can't work with you breathing down my neck like this." Canada rubbed his forehead tiredly, wondering if he had enough duct tape to attach America to a wall, and completely cocoon him so he would serve a useful purpose as an ornament. The thought made him smile.

"But I don't want you to work." America leaned even closer, and how was that possible, this chair was only meant to hold one person and how the hell was he fitting on Canada's lap and-

CRASH. There went Canada's favorite chair.

"Alfred." Canada's voice was quiet, but had an icy air that reminded his brother that he was dealing with a country that was, in fact, larger than him, and was currently on good terms with Russia. America nearly shat enough bricks to rebuild the Great Wall of China right there. "Alfred."

"Y-yes?" America stuttered, his tone faintly reminiscent of a teenaged boy thoroughly beaten into submission by his girlfriend

"You are the reason why mothers in the wild eat their children."

A Few Days Later

"Matthew?" England knocked on Canada's door, worried about the whereabouts of his other son.

"Yes, mom?" Canada answered the door, grinning.

"How many times have I told you, I'm not your mum, lad!" England sighed and rolled his eyes, then got straight to the point. "Have you seen that insufferable twat Alfred around? He's been gone for a few days, and last the other nations heard, he said he was going to head over to your house for a chat."

"I guess he got himself lost again, eh. I haven't seen hide nor hair of him, but I'll call you if he gets himself unstuck and manages to find a way back to his own country." Canada beamed, and England (while confused about Canada's odd phrasing of his statement) was unsure if he'd ever seen the other man ever look so cheerful.

"Alright then, I'll see you later." England nodded his head and went back to his car, not hearing the faintly muffled noises that came from the upstairs. In fact, if one was listening closely, it sounded like someone was mumbling:

"Help… me…"

Canada closed the door behind England, and dragged the garbage bag full of empty duct tape rolls out to the curb. Then, he walked back inside and, wiping his hands off and placing them on his hips, surveyed the silver-covered mass that was America and mentally congratulated himself on a job well done.

Authoress' Random Ramble

I have no idea from where this came. I think I was musing about how Ludwig would deal with Gilbert, that changed to how Matt would deal with Alfred, and then this… thing spawned. So, anyways, I own nothing (except for a hell of a lot of duct tape), I have no idea why I'm swearing so much, and if you review, Matt might untie Alfred.

Only to drop him in the nearest crevasse. (big crack in a glacier, goes down forever. Fricking scary, too)

Less than three. Less than three