A/N: I don't own Hetalia or anything else mentioned in this fic. Also, there's some hatin' on a certain 'male' singer in this fic. His name is Justin Bieber. I really don't like him and if you're gonna get upset by this turn away now!

The two blondes stared each other down. The atmosphere was so tense it could have been cut with Severus Snape's no- WAIT, wrong fandom sorry. Let's try that again.

The two blondes stared each other down. The atmosphere was so tense it could have been cut with the dullest of Belarus' knives. And she had some knives that were pretty dull from her forgetting about them, she was pretty old, y'know. Anyways...

A short brunette stood in the middle of them, held in place by the iron grip of one of the blondes. With a forceful shove, the brunette stumbled towards the longer haired nation. The boy was obviously terrified, his brown eyes showing a mixture of fear, confusion, and shock. A kind of look that Russia would receive if he were to walk up to someone half naked. There would probably be more horror mixed in there too, not that that someone wouldn't enjoy it. I imagine the nation is quite muscular under his clothes... The nations continued to glared at each other, sunlight glinting off their glasses dangerously.

"Take. Him. Back." It was said with so much disgust and hate the boy shrunk back as the blonde was obviously talking about him. The boy was confused, his tiny brain's hamster running fast in his wheel as he tried to figure out who these guys were and why he was there. The last thing he remembered was leaving his room to go to the kitchen to make some pancakes. Then blackness and now, he was here. He was surprised to see two older guys who still looked to be in their late teens. He had been expecting a bunch of crazed fangirls, what was going on?

The other blonde shook his head wildly. "I don't want him! You take him!" With this being said, Canada shoved the brunette back to America. Less force was used, but it hurt nonetheless.

"He's from Canada though!"

"But it was your people who found him on your Youtube! Your record companies who signed him and your radio stations that overplay him!" Canada cried, his glasses falling down his nose.

"I just don't get the appeal. The girls are always moaning about how hot he is! He's like twelve and sounds like a ten year old!" Both nation looked down at the boy when he yelled in protest.

"I'm not twelve! I'm sixteen! I'm not gay!" The boy's fists clenched, looked up at the nations with a glare, and let out a very gay huff. The blondes burst out laughing. The voice was so high. Did this kid even know what puberty is?

"Alright, alright. If I won't take him, Mattie and you won't take him then what do we do with him?" America was trying to get over his laughing fit. But DAMN that boy had a high voice. And how cute, he tried to deny his sexuality. Except, the boy wasn't cute at all. Canada straightened up from his laughing fit.

"I-I dunno, Al. Maybe we could...maybe we could...send him off to a different country to torture. But who would have such tastelessness to accept him?" Mattie drifted off in thought. Who was that tasteless? Both nations' heads snapped up. That's it!

"M-Mr. Kirkland, sir? There's a package for you." The human's voice was nervous as were most humans when they were around nations. Nervousness that is usually earned. One time, England had gotten smashed a party and started to singing Lady Gaga (quite well) and drunk dialed America and confessed his love, the only good thing to come out of this. Funny, though, the humans never had parties anymore.

England looked up from his work and sighed, "Uh, send it in, please."

A large box was then dragged in on wheels by a worker in a brown uniform. He was probably from FedEx or something, or that other company. Y'know, the only called DHL or something with their combination of yellow and brown. The worker had a really deep voice that offset England, how did someone have such a deep voice? England signed the clipboard. Why does one have to do this? Like, proof that the guy did their job? 'Look mummy! I delivered packages! Here's the signatures for proof!'

England circled around the large box now. Slapped onto the box crookedly was a sign stating one word: 'Fuck'.

"Feliciano? Is that you? Did Ludwig get mad at you or something? Or was it Lovino? I feel like your brother would be more likely to do this to you..." England panicked. Sure, Italy was probably used to be sent around the world in a box by now, but still. Times were different. The guy wasn't that bad. He pulled open box yelling, "FELICIANIO!"

A brunette popped out for sure, and for a split second England thought it was Italy. But the boy was too young and he didn't yell in panic at the sight of England. Instead he opened his mouth and sang.

"Imma tell you one time~!"

The scream from England could be heard around the whole world.

Two blondes representing the nations of America and Canada were sitting on the front lawn of the White House, laughing maniacally at the scream that resonated through the Earth. Clinking their glasses together, they sighed deeply. Life just got a whole lot easier.

A/N: Alright, y'guys. I'm gonna say that I don't find British music horrible, in fact some of my favorite artists are British. When I said tastelessness and all that I was referring to the food and how in the strips and anime England was called Tasteless.

There, I got that out. I thought I'd just let you know that before I get any hate mail about how awesome British music is. And yes, I actually really do hate Justin Bieber.