All of my stories have been really angsty and i just wanted to return to humorous fluffy cracky shit. This is really short but i just wanted to throw it out there. Enjoy!

It was Family Night, so really America and Canada shouldn't have expected anything differently. A few years ago, the four of them, meaning America, Canada, England and France had drunkenly agreed that once a month they would have a family night, and meet at one of their houses for a bonding, memorable evening.

They had now realized no matter what activity they decided to partake in, whether it be Monopoly, Clue or movie watching, the night would dissolve into bitter arguing and sometimes fist fights.

Still, they tried every month.

This month it was America's turn to host, and he decided they would all play Super Smash Bros Brawl. It was an ingenious plan. They would fight virtually instead of in actuality and it would unleash all the tension and life would be great for once. England would quit bitching at him and France would keep his hands to his controller and they could pass a night all together in peace.

Or at least, that's what he had hoped.

Unfortunately, he had barely turned on the Wii let alone assigned controllers before France and England were at each other's throats. He didn't even know what had caused the sudden verbal fighting. He didn't even care at this point.

"Guys, come on! The games ready!" He tried to reason. He was so done with this bullshit. So done.

Either his parental figures didn't hear him or didn't care enough to answer because they ignored him. They were completely consumed in yelling names and curses at each other while threatening each other with empty death warrants.

Canada, equally done with their parent's behavior, nudged at America's shoulder. "Let's just play without them." He muttered, picking up the player two controller. America pursed his lips, gave the bickering elder countries one last glance, before sitting beside his twin with resignation.

He was gonna have a fun night no matter what. Fuck the Europeans and their drama.

The twin countries soon found themselves laughing and cursing as they fought each other to the death virtually. They were used to playing such games, though usually under some make shift blanket fort. Even though each was intent on winning, it didn't stop them from being impressed when their opponent killed them in a skillful way.

America won the 9th round, standing up and shouting, "Ha! That's how ya beat a nasty Francophile wannabe!" Grinning and laughing, ignoring the fact he had lost the previous three games in a row. Canada rolled his eyes, grumbling some French curses and tugged the American back down to play the damn game again.

However, the American's loud shout had caught the attention of the elder nations. They froze in their place, with England's arms gripping tightly to France's collar ready to beat the living fuck out of him. The comment made them curious of what the twins were playing, and as they started a new match they soon realized it was a fighting game…to the death.

"Restart the game, Alfred. The frog and I want to play." England snapped, shoving the Frenchman back and taking a seat next to America. The American tried to protest, claiming he was about to take another win but, France reached over and grabbed his controller to return back to the player selection screen. America glared at him, and France gave him an innocent smug smile.

"How did you do that?" England asked, suddenly suspicious of the Frenchman's knowledge of the game system. France's smile widened, teasingly but he remained silent, picking up the fourth player controller. England growled, "Alfred, how did he know that?"

"Dude, France and I go to conventions all the time with Japan and he forces me to go to the boring informational panels and in exchange I force him to play in tournaments with me in the video game room." America explained with the roll of his eyes.

England frowned, staring at his own controller like a foreigner to a new language, "Is he any good." He asked, suddenly worried of an unfair advantage to the plan he'd just been formulating. The plan of mercilessly killing the French bastard for hours. Francis beamed, about to answer himself.

"No, he fucking sucks."

"Alfred!" France objected, offended by the outright lie.

"Dude. The only character you can play is Kirby and you cost me that tournament! How the hell do you manage to kill yourself so easily as Kirby? He can fucking fly!" America glared, still bitter. Sure they only lost on the second round out of many but he could already taste victory! It wasn't fair.

Canada snickered by America's side and France frowned further, feeling even more humiliated. His precious baby Matthieu was laughing at him! He was supposed to stay by his side always! Clearly he needed to fight back for his honor.

England was even more amused than Canada and felt infinitely better with the newfound information. He quickly took his controller and mimicked America's grip, trying to follow his movements in picking a character. He adapted quickly and chose the angel character because it reminded him of his secret alter ego nobody knew about.

"Zat character reminds me of your revealing Britannia Angel costume." France commented, and Arthur immediately reddened.

"It's not a costume and how the hell do you even know about that!"

"Arthur, a few nights ago we got drunk and had sex and you said you wanted to go to the bathroom to transform and you came back in that and rode me all nig—"

"OH MY GOD CAN WE JUST PLAY THE FUCKING GAME, JESUS CHRIST I DON'T WANNA HEAR ABOUT YOUR NASTY BEDROOM STUFF." America shouted, pressing play quickly. Canada silently concurred.

France pouted but turned to the game, and Arthur was, for once, quite thankful for America's loud interruption. However, he soon frowned, as Canada managed to hit him over the edge of the field.

"Wait, what are the controls for this thing?" He asked quickly, looking at the other three franticly for some sort of aid. He would never beat the French frog like this.

"I dunno." America answered, focusing on the screen as his fingers flew around his controller with practice eased. "You just button smash."

England didn't even know what that meant.

"You move with the control pad. "A" is for regular attacks while "B" is for special ones. Pressing them while holding down different directions makes different attacks. You kinda just figure it out as you play. " Canada piped up helpfully with a polite smile.

"Thank you, Matthew. You're so much better than your brother."

America rolled his eyes at the comment, focusing on killing. Arthur ignored him as well, and turned his attention back to his controller, figuring out where the "A" and "B" buttons were. Once he found them he looked back up at the screen, ready to defeat ever—

"Hey, where's my character!?"

"Dude, Mattie slaughtered while he was being 'oh so helpful'. And you say I never pay attention."

"Matthew! How could you?"

"...It's the point of the game, Arthur." Canada responded, not sparing him a glance as he knocked France character off the edge. The Frenchman whined, officially out and pouted. England had never seen Canada so ruthless (then again, he'd never seen him at any hockey matches, so really he had no room to talk.)

The game continued on a bit longer, with the twins fighting tooth and nail until somehow America ended up winning at the last minute. Canada growled, but sighed and accepted his defeat.

"Finally," England muttered, picking up his controller again, "Now go again I'm ready this time."

"But I'm bored now." America whined, "Mattie and I've been playing this ever since you two started fighting which was—" He glanced at his watch, "—Shit, 3 hours ago!"

Canada widened his own eyes, "Has it really been that long? We should go set up the movie…"

America nodded in agreement and the pair quickly scurried off. Arthur felt cheated. He wanted a rematch. He felt a warm body suddenly press against his and turned to find the bloody Frenchman had scooted all the way toward him.

"Would you like to play with moi?" France cooed, exchanging his controller for America's player one. He then gave England's Canada's, and selected a new arena. England rolled his eyes but decided "Fine."

What happened then was a Family Night that would go down in history as the most pathetic brawl match ever in existence. Each match lasted about a minute, with most deaths caused by accidental suicides.

America and Canada found it painful to watch, especially once they realized through their initial laughter that their parental figures were actually trying to seriously play. Then it just kind of became sad.

Nevertheless, the elder nations were engrossed in murdering each other virtually, no matter how difficult and ended up playing continuously into the night.

I might make a series of oneshots of FACE happy family night shenanigans. Would you guys be interested in that?

yes i will update my other stuff eventually

review if you like it! Love you all~