Little America, only 12 years old, waited impatiently as he watched England do the laundry. America was only wearing one of England's button-down shirts, and it was very large on him. "Englaaaand~~ I'm very cold wearing only this…." America whined. "Well then, you should have told me that you needed your laundry done BEFORE you had no clean clothes left," England replied. America pouted and crouched down on his knees. One of England's chickens dashed over to him, expecting to be fed. "Oh dear…" England mumbled. America turned his attention away from the chicken and looked at England who was facing away from him. "Oops…" England said as he showed America a pair of his shorts….that were shrunk.

England waited outside of America's door as he changed into his shrunken clothes. "Its….hard to get on…" America said from the other room. "I'm so sorry, America," England replied, "But you'll just have to wear that until we buy you new clothes." England sighed, he couldn't believe he had messed up with his beloved little America's clothes. America appeared from the other room, and England stared at him in awe. America's button down shirt was shrunken at the sleeves, showing off his slender arms, but it hadn't shrunken at the torso so it covered him there….but his shorts were so small. America's thighs were skinny, but it was so tight that his thighs slightly bulged out where the shorts cut off. "I guess it can't be helped," America said, "you're right, I'll just have to wear this when we buy new clothes. Gosh, it'll be embarrassing…" America tried to tug his shorts lower so that it could cover more of his legs, but it didn't work. England gulped. "No….Don't worry, I'll go buy you clothes by myself…" England said, his eyes not leaving America's naked legs. "What? But….I don't..," America couldn't finish his sentence. He didn't want England to go somewhere and leave him behind again. Even if it was just to the store. "Couldn't I go with you? What if the clothes you buy don't fit me? Please, England-" America protested. "No!" England snapped, and America made a hurt expression. "Ah….Sorry," England quickly apologized, "But, you're right, it would be embarrassing," England placed a hand on America's delicate thigh, "You can't wear something like this out in public. I'd be too worried-" England cut off his sentence and America looked up at him in confusion. England would be worried that creeps-like France-would be staring at America and his spectacular short-shorts….but England didn't want to explain to America WHY. "Its fine, America, just get out of these silly shorts already," England said, tugging at the shorts without thinking. America grabbed England's hands. "I can do it myself!" He protested, "I'm not a kid anymore, I don't need your help to undress myself!" England mentally whacked himself on the head. "Ah, yes, that's right…..Go ahead…" America went back into his room to change, and England stared one last time at America in the short-shorts as he disappeared behind the door, knowing that it would be the last he saw of those spectacular short-shorts.