A/N:

So. This is a result of my boredom leading to my finding a certain... documentary on Netflix full of people/evidence that claimed that NASA's moon landings were a complete and total fraud. Naturally, my brain being what it is, I started mentally combining the stuff people were saying in the documentary with my headcanon that America easily believes conspiracy theories, added in my own thoughts to the whole thing, and, well... this was born.

Enjoy! (Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.)

.oOo.

~ Conspiracy Theory ~

.oOo.

"Have you seen America?" the President asked yet another member of his staff, slowly feeling himself growing exasperated over the question he had been relentlessly asking to everyone in sight for the past hour straight–

"No, sir. I haven't."

Of course.

The President sighed as he thanked the staff member anyway, marching back up the stairs as he blinked hard in frustration.

He really needed to get the nation-proof-tracking-device idea past Congress sometime soon.

"Uh, sir?"

The President paused, turning around to the staff member.

"Have you tried looking in the theater, yet? He has been known to spend quite a lot of his time there, after all."

...The theater, huh?

Well. It was worth a shot.

.oOo.

Surely enough, as the President neared the aforementioned room, he could make out the faintest sounds of the television playing inside. Quietly pushing open the door and entering the theater, it didn't take very long for the President to spot the one and only Alfred F. Jones seated in the front row, his knees hugged to his chest and eyes blankly staring at the screen in front of him, eating up whatever it was that was playing.

From the looks of it, it seemed to be some sort of astronomical documentary.

The President was surprised at this, mentally giving the nation some credit. Where he had expected to find Alfred watching one of his typical action-packed superhero movies, or – heaven forbid – one of the dreaded horror films, it appeared that the boy was actually… trying to learn something for once. Voluntarily.

Well. Good on the kid. Yes, he always knew Alfred had it in him.

...It was then that the President managed to catch the words "the government is a fraud", and the ounce of hope he'd had instantly came crashing down.

Clearly something was not quite right here.

The President made his way to where the American nation was sitting, standing directly in between the nation and the screen.

"Alfred."

The boy didn't respond, seemingly unfazed by the man's presence as he continued to watch the screen behind him.

"Alfred."

… Still no response.

"Alfred F. Jones, you will answer me right now, or you will be forbidden from eating anything from McDonald's for a week."

The nation silently grabbed the remote that lay beside him, pushing the "pause" button on the device and turning his head upward to meet the President's gaze.

"What," the man gestured to the screen behind him, his eyes never leaving America's, "is this?"

America, strangely appearing as if he were caught in a trance-like state, hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth.

"My whole life…" he said, his voice serious as he stared at the President with widened eyes. "My whole life is a lie."

"...Come again?"

"My life," the nation repeated. "It's all been one big lie. But this documentary I found on Netflix has made me see the truth. The non-believers may call it a mere conspiracy theory, but I… I know it's real."

The President blinked.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to elaborate a bit more."

"Mr. President," America said slowly, "Did you know we never actually landed on the moon?"

The room was silent for a brief moment, before it was shattered by the President's hearty laugh.

"Whatever are you talking about, Alfred?" he said, shaking his head. "Of course we did. Come now, you know better than to believe these silly conspiracy documentaries–"

"No, sir," the nation interrupted. "You're wrong. I know it might be hard to believe, but… this entire man-on-the-moon thing? It's all just been one big hoax. NASA worked with the government to fake everything, and all this time… we've been so blind."

The President's laugh died down, the man instead choosing to stare at his nation's personification with a look of both disbelief and mild amusement.

"You surely don't actually believe tha–"

"Sir, you don't understand," America said. "It's the truth. This movie explains it all; there's so much hard evidence, it's crazy to think that we'd never noticed it before!"

"Evidence?" the President asked. "What evidence is this?"

"Well, listen to this. You know how there's that one video of the astronaut twisting the American flag into the ground, right? It looks like the flag is flapping in the wind. Only that's impossible, because it's the moon, and there is no wind on the moon! That means that that shot had to have been filmed here, on Earth, where there is wind, and not on the moon, where there isn't any wind at all! It's a fake!"

America huffed, looking at the President expectantly.

"...You say the flag was 'flapping', correct?" the man said slowly.

"Yeah!"

"And this was happening while it was being twisted into the ground?"

"Uh-huh!"

"...Tell me, Alfred, by any chance did this flapping stop as soon as the twisting did?"

"Well, yeah, but–"

"I'm afraid your claims have been debunked," the President said, crossing his arms. "I'm telling you, Alfred, if you just use simple reasoning then you'll surely see that there is no truth to be found in these conspiracy theories."

"W-Well, but that's not all, though," the nation quickly responded. "How about this: you've seen the pictures that have been released as evidence that we've been on the moon, right? Have you ever realized that the backgrounds all look exactly the same, even though the pictures were taken in different places? That's proof right there that the photos aren't real! Green-screening and Photoshop have been messing with us all!"

"I… I don't believe Photoshop was around in 1969," the President answered. "Sorry, Alfred, but you're twenty years too early on that one. And just how different do you expect the terrain of the moon to look, anyway? To my knowledge, the entire place is nothing but barren dust with some mountains and craters scattered about."

America blinked at the man in front of him.

"O-Oh, yeah? Okay, then, think about this one: those photos that have been released? The same photos I was just talking about? The sun is the only light source there, since they're in outer space, right? So, then, tell me: how is it that every picture seems so perfectly lit, even the ones that show the astronauts standing with the sun behind them? They're supposed to be silhouettes, but you can somehow see them perfectly; that proves there's multiple light sources! And there aren't multiple light sources in space! That means that those pictures had to have been a studio job, taken on Earth, with artificial lighting!"

The nation let out a breath.

"I don't know about you, Mr. President," he said, "but that takes the cake."

The President merely looked at the American.

"Alfred," he said, "there are multiple light sources in space. Besides the sun, you've got the Earth – which reflects light from the sun much like the moon does as it illuminates the night sky – and then you've got the moon itself. See, there's simply no truth in these documentaries."

"That still doesn't prove anything!" America retaliated, refusing to give in to the President's claims. "The people– they've all been fooled. The reality is rising to the light for the first time, and I don't know why you keep trying to shut it down!"

The President regarded the nation in front of him, getting slightly annoyed with the boy's stubbornness.

"Well," he said, deciding to take another approach to the situation, "what did the folks at NASA have to say about this? Has the movie said anything about their opinions?"

"Not very much, except for the fact that they think these people are 'wrong'," America said. "But, honestly, I don't care. I don't want to hear what those traitors have to say. Not after what they've done to me."

With that, the nation picked up the remote again, pressing the "play" button as both he and the President turned their attention toward the screen.

"Coming up: we all know that three astronauts lost their lives due to an accident that arose during a simulation of the Apollo 1 launching. But, maybe… maybe this was no accident at all. What if the astronauts were intentionally silenced… because they knew too much? Find out when Conspiracy Theory retur–"

Plink.

Silence flooded the room, the nation's widened eyes still glued to the spot that the TV's bright screen had just been a moment ago.

The President sighed as he held up the remote he'd snagged from the American's grip.

"That's enough TV for you," he said, turning to walk out of the room.

"Wait, no," America cried, breaking out of his stupor and desperately stretching his hand out toward the President. "Come on, Boss. You can't do this to me! Their voices can't be silenced. I have to know the truth!"

The door to the theater promptly shut as the President ignored the nation's whines.

Remote still in hand, he made his way over to the Oval Office, where he swiftly locked the doors and sat himself down at his desk.

Rubbing his temples, he reached for his cell phone, entering his wife's phone number and holding the device up to his ear.

"Dear," he said when she picked up, "Exactly how does one cancel a Netflix account?"

End Note:

Like it? Hate it? Let me know in the box below!

Thanks for reading, everyone, and stay awesome. ;)

Peace out,

~silentwolf111