Mochi with Syrup

"Stupid American!" Crack! A heavy body slammed into Canadamochi's back. The tackle was followed by rapid beating with flags and a cigar. Canadamochi whimpered under Cubamochi's assult.

"Not American," he squeaked, "Canadian." But Cubamochi didn't hear and the beating continued.

Long after, when Cubamochi had finally lost interest in hitting him, Canadamochi huddled in a corner and cried. He hated being mistaken for his crazy brother. It wasn't his fault Mochimerica wanted to take over the world! In fact, Canadamochi did his best to prevent that!

As if on cue, the source of Canadamochi's pain appeared. Mochimerica bounced up and attempted to cuddle his crying brother. It was impossible to tell if it was an act of comfort or annexation.

"It's okay, you're American!"

"Hoser…" Canadamochi muttered, moving away from his brother. Mochimerica shrugged and left.

Canadamochi nursed his bruises. It wasn't fair! He always got blamed for what his crazy brother did. No one cared that Canadamochi ate Mochimerica's evil talking lettuce and hid his stupid inventions. If only Mochimerica wasn't around Canadamochi wouldn't have to work so hard and get beaten up all the time. He'd be able to make friends.

-time skip-

After being beaten up by Cubamochi and Mochirus both on the same day (both times for things Mochimerica had done) Canadamochi had enough. He left the area the mochis usually lived in and bounced to the kitchen. Estonia had once made pancakes for him and they'd made him feel better, so Canadamochi tried to recreate them.

He had finally succeeded when Mochimerica rolled in. The crazed mocha bounced up on the counter next to Canadamochi and roller through the mess. Canadamochi tried to ignore his insane brother, but then Mochimerica did something unforgivable.

He stole Canadamochi's pancakes.

Canadamochi saw red. Squeaking in anger, he jumped on a plastic bottle and shot a sticky stream at his brother. The syrup hit Mochimerica straight on and stuck the insane mocha to the counter.

"Hey dude, not cool! I'm American!"

"1812! 1812!" Canadamochi was burning with anger. He grabbed a knife in his mouth and started stabbing Mochimerica's squishy flesh. Sweet, gooey mocha blood oozed out. Mochimerica screamed.

"No! No! Stop! Not okay!"

"1812!" Canadamochi abandoned his knife for a fork. He stabbed the fork through Mochimerica, eliciting spurts of blood. Using the fork as a lever, Canadamochi flung Mochimerica into the still sizzling frying pan. Mochimerica screamed some more.

Soon white flesh crisped to brown and sugar blood crystalized in the pan. Canadamochi used the fork again to fish Mochimerica out and plop him on the stack of pancakes. Then Canadamochi proceeded to drench the whole pile in maple syrup and finally enjoy his comforting treat.

Much later, Canadamochi was cleaning up the kitchen when Estonia and Mochigirisu came in. Estonia looked worried; Mochigirisu was smug.

"Canadamochi, have you seen Mochimerica?"

"No." Canadamochi licked syrup off his lips and his owner left with a sigh. As soon as Estonia was out of sight Mochigirisu jumped up on the counter.

"Rubbish," the gentleman mocha grunted. He smiled and licked a drop of syrup from Canadamochi's cheek.

"Rubbish," Canadamochi agreed. He burped, blushing. Mochigirisu licked him again and snuggled suggestively into the Canadian mochi's side.

"America git; Canada dear. England love."

"Maple!"