Adventures of the Marry My Man at Any Cost Club

This is written from an idea given to me by Urchin of the Riding Stars. I hope everyone finds it just a little humorous. I will do my best to make it funny!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. And the website I mention in here is real and also something I don't own.

A gavel slammed with authority on the podium. The wielder was a beautiful young woman with long platinum hair and eyes the color of blue ice.

"I hereby call this meeting of MAC to order," she stated with a calm glare at the people sitting around her. "As normal, we shall begin with a roll call and affirmation of our beloved. As one of the co-founders I shall go first: My name is Belarus, and I will someday marry Russia."

She sat down and a young, Hispanic man rose to her left. He had a youthful face and an air of a "rouge rapscallion," as he often liked to describe himself. Brown-green eyes sparkled against his dark skin with determination. He said, "Hola! I am the other co-founder of MAC. I am the great Mexico and I will someday marry my America!" Mexico pulled out a picture of his (reluctant and, only currently, unrequited) love from his breast-pocket (so America was always next to his heart) and gave it a sweet kiss.

Belarus rolled her eyes at the emotional display. Why did men always have to be such girls about everything? You would never see her Russia acting so sentimental. No… he was the kind of man who would jump out of an airplane and then wrestle one, no, five, no FIFTY-TWO grizzle bears without a shirt, and then he would take her into his arms…

She gave a happy shudder as her daydream took a certain NC-17 rating path.

The next member of MAC stood up. A tall, imposing man, he grunted, "H'llo. My n'me is Sweden. I w'll s'med'y re-m'rry m' w'fe, F'nland."

Blank stares.

His neighbor, and fellow Nordic, nudged him and whispered, "Sweden we've talked about this so many times… you've got to use the cards man!"

Sweden closed his eyes in frustration before lifting up a card that read: Hello. My name is Sweden. I will someday re-marry my wife, Finland.

A chorus of "Ooh!" drifted through the meeting. Sweden sat down in defeat and wondered wistfully if he would ever be able to attend a meeting where he didn't have to write down everything he said on note cards.

Thinking of the general intelligence of his fellow Nations, Sweden concluded a sad no.

After helping his fellow Nordic, a blond male jumped on the table with a powerful flourish and proclaimed in his manly voice, "Greetings my fellow stalkers! My name is The Great Denmark of Viking Strength and Determination, and I shall one day claim the delicate, lovely maiden that is my Norway!"

Mexico rushed to get Denmark off the table. His damn boots kept leaving scratch marks on the polished wood, and the building's manager had threatened to up their rent if they kept breaking or damaging things.

(As Mexico yanked the idiotic Dane off the table, some of the dimmer bulbs at the meeting wondered when Denmark had changed his name and why he had made it so long. It would be really hard to remember now!)

After the song and dance between Mexico and Denmark, the introductions continued.

A second Hispanic man stood up. This one looked a little older than the first and had a happy, if somewhat clueless, grin plastered on his face. He gave a cheery shout, "HOLA AMIGOS! I am the great Spain, wonderful big brother to little Mexico—"

Mexico gave an unhappy grunt and threw a wad of paper at his "wonderful big brother," hitting him square in the head. Spain did not notice.

"—and I will one day marry my little tomato, Romano! HE IS SO CUTE AND HIS FACE TURNS THE CUTEST COLOR RED…"

Belarus quickly cut off what would otherwise be a never-ending list of "superior" and non-existent (in her opinion) qualities shouted by the overzealous Spaniard with an even icier glare than she had been previously wearing. Immediately Spain and all the cups of water in the room froze.

Mexico sighed, "I'll go turn up the heat."

While Mexico went to unfreeze the water and—grudgingly—Spain, the sixth member stood up. He flipped his hair and smoothed out his skirt and said, "Like, hello! I'm the completely fabulous Poland and I want to remarry my Liet. So then we can like, go and ride ponies together again and he can carry my bags, like, at the mall and it will be totally great."

Not to be outdone, the seventh member shot up with exuberance and glee, "Yeah! Da ze! My name is South Korea and the MAC was invented in me!"

A knife slammed down on to the table next to where his hand was.

"H-ha, ha… did, did I say t-that MAC was invented in me? Ha, no, no it was invented in the great nation of Belarus—"

A throat cleared as the sound of machete was pulled free from its sheath.

"—and the also great nation of Mexico. Both are cool, da ze! S-so I want to marry my China because his breasts belong to me!" With the end of his rather shaky declaration, South Korea sat down.

Belarus nodded. She resumed her place at the podium again. She shuffled around the papers, cleared her throat, and began, "Now that we have the normal introductions completed, MAC would like to welcome its newest member: England."

Said nation twitched as polite applause sounded and mutters of "welcome" echoed through the room. He hissed from clenched teeth, "I've already told you, you foul harpy, I just want directions to the damn water closet. I don't want anything to do with you stalking freaks!"

Belarus rolled her eyes and quipped, "Denial is not something to be proud of England." She pulled out a piece of paper, "This is a declaration made by you at the commonwealth meeting yesterday stating your intent to add one, United States of America, to the commonwealth. Care to explain that?" She queried as she held the damning piece of evidence aloft, a deadpan expression on her attractive face.

Mexico hissed in anger as his great rival from across the ocean once again tried to make a move on HIS man. English bitch was going to get cut after the meeting.

England stared in horror before stuttering, "That… I was DRUNK!"

Sweden turned to him and said in a disbelieving grunt, "Y'u w'r' dr'nk at a c'mm'nwealth m'tt'ng?"

England just stared at him in confusion, mouth slowly moving up and down as if by trying to say the gibberish he may better understand it.

Denmark elbowed Sweden before pointing to a marker and a blank board.

Sweden sighed and held up another board: You were drunk?

England flushed and muttered angrily, "It's the only way to keep sane at those damn meetings…"

Spain whispered to Poland, "He's sane?"

Poland shrugged.

England, trying to get the incredulous stares of the MAC members away from him, asked, "And what do you do at these stupid meetings? Figure out better places to hide while you stalk your victims? And what the bloody hell does MAC stand for anyway?"

Belarus calmly stated, "To your second question, MAC is an acronym for an acronym."

England felt a sense of dread fill him as he began to slowly comprehend how much stupid was surrounding him. He cleared his throat, "Ah… uh, an acronym… for… an acronym."

Belarus serenely nodded.

Again England felt lost, but bravely he further questioned, "What, ah, what is the, uh, bigger acronym?"

"MMMAACC," answered Mexico promptly and a little proudly.

England slowly nodded, saddened as he literally felt bit by precious bit of his I.Q. drop for every passing second he was held hostage in this horrid room. "Ah, yes. T-that would require an acronym. What, ah, is the whole name then?" Maybe that many letters would mean the name was smarter than it sounded? In England's heart a small sliver of hope began to surge…

"Marry My Man At Any Cost Club," Mexico provided helpfully.

Nope. It was official, all hope was to be abandoned as England was clearly in some new circle of Dante's Inferno, not described in the poem due to the poet's fear that it'd be too much for his audience to handle.

Oh, but Mexico wasn't done yet. He went on to say, "We also have a pretty great pledge. The only problem is we can't rhyme the last couple of lines. See, we can't figure out anything in English that rhymes with 'ribbon'… well, that's not totally true." Here he gave a side glare to an exasperated Belarus.

She ground out through clenched teeth, "I've told you once, I've you a hundred times… we are not using the word 'gibbon' in our pledge of love and devotion! They are FILTHY monkeys!"

Mexico sulked, "First off, gibbons are apes, not monkeys because they don't have tales. Secondly, gibbons are wonderful apes, very friendly and always bringing a smile to anyone's face. I don't understand what you've got against them. I mean they're so cute and they clean each other's fur to keep ticks and shit off. That's the level of devotion we need to have to our beloveds."

Belarus hissed, "I have nothing against gibbons or monkeys or apes in general! But the point is they're furry, smelly little creatures that have ticks on them and I won't have THAT associated with my wonderful big brother!"

As Mexico took a breath—ready to defend all of gibbon-kind to the death (and it would probably be to the death, he was arguing with Belarus after all)—England cut in, "Pledge? Why would a pledge written by a Spanish-speaking Nation and a… Belarusian? Russian? Whatever-it-isn't-English-speaking nation write a pledge for a club they've made in English? What made you even come up with such a ludicrous idea for an organization anyway?"

The questions stopped the arguing founders in their tracks, and with quick eye darts between each other and the other Nations, the two came to a silent agreement.

Settling down into their seats, the two folded their arms on the table and looked with calm, steely eyes at the English challenger. Mexico started, "We most certainly did NOT start this organization while high and drunk out of our minds in the Netherlands."

Belarus continued, "Certainly not! And the session of creating MAC did not continue on long into the night with even further drug and alcohol abuse."

Mexico picked up the not narrative, "Also what did not happen was any purchase of prostitutes. We would never have used money, especially money that may or may not have been stolen from some drug lord, to gather a group of mixed gender prostitutes while we were attempting such lofty goals as the creation of MAC."

Belarus nodded and added, "Yes, there were never any goats or salted fish purchased with the intent to be used for an orgy. And if any of you get the brilliant idea to check police records to see if this night of debauchery and sin actually happened, it didn't, so don't check."

Mexico quickly tagged on, "Oh yeah, there was no planning about members and funding while we sat in a jail cell before breaking out, stealing a police car and leading the authorities across five countries before finally managing a brilliant escape by jumping into the Rhine river and swimming to freedom. Absolutely none of what was just described ever happened."

Silence, horrified, stupefied silence greeted the founders. South Korea timidly raised his hand and asked, "Is… is there anything else in the story of what happened?"

Glares from Mexico and Belarus caused South Korea to hastily amend, "I, I mean the story of what NOT happened. Obliviously."

Mexico and Belarus shared another look before Belarus added, "There were also no vampires, werewolves, or chupacabras involved."

Silence again greeted them.

England stood up slowly and looked carefully at each member in the room. He solemnly began with great and heavy regret, "I apologize for that everyone. It was clearly my fault we had to hear that tale of Not-Happening. I shouldn't have asked how the current stupidity of MAC came about; I should have known that only something much, much stupider could have led to MAC. And yet I still asked the questions. Now I know we have all suffered in losing some intelligence points which could have been avoided completely. I greatly apologize to all of you, especially to those of you who didn't have much more intelligence to lose. This has been a shameful day in my history and I swear I will remember this dreadfulness the next time I think to question the existence of stupidity." With that grand speech, England quietly and with no small amount of regal dignity, sat down.

Spain whispered to Poland, "Who was England talking about when he said the thing about some of us not having much intelligence left to lose?"

Poland whispered back, "Like the fact that you, like, don't know he was totally talking about you means that you were, like, who he was totes talking about."

Spain looked confused before understanding struck him like a hammer. He gave a grateful smile to Poland and whispered, "Thanks!"

Poland just nodded, always glad to assist a fellow MAC member.

Sweden cleared his throat ready to speak, and then closed his mouth. He picked up his little board and wrote a quick message: Shouldn't we tell England how the club works now?

Mexico flashed a happy smile at Sweden, "Right, thanks for the prompt Sweden. So, the main parts of our meetings are to talk about how we are doing wooing our respective men—"

England interrupted, "Yes I noticed that. Isn't that a bit sexist? I mean, what about any Nation that wants to marry a female? It seems like you shouldn't exclude them."

Belarus nodded, "For now, no one has come to join that wants to woo a female Nation, but when the time comes I have already got the new t-shirts ready that will be for the MNAC: Marry My Nation At Any Cost Club."

While England mouthed, 'new t-shirts' in dismay, Mexico turned to his fellow founder and inquired, "You think we will have new members soon?"

Belarus nodded sagely, "Yes, I believe soon the time will come when Switzerland realizes the only way to keep Liechtenstein from dating any of the micro-Nations or regular Nations is to marry her himself. That way he knows he can protect her virtue from all unworthy Nations, i.e. all other Nations but him."

Poland whistled, "Wow, that's like totally brilliant!"

England looked appalled, "You're talking about someone committing incest to keep his sister from dating!"

Belarus sharpened the knife that had magically appeared in her hand, "You have a problem with incest?"

England gulped and backtracked, "O-of course not! Belarus dear, I think you and Russia will be wonderful together. Ha, ha!"

"That's what I thought."

With Belarus sending death glares at any potential challengers to her dream, Sweden wondered again why he had joined this club. A mental image of Finland returning home dressed as Santa Claus and asking in a coy voice if Sweden had been naughty or nice popped up in the stoic Northerner's mind. Ah, that's right, sexy fun times with Finland.

Tired of paying attention to a sweating England, he gazed around the room to see South Korea doing something very odd: reading what looked to be a normal, non-illustrated book. Curiosity peaked, he went to ask the Korean what he was reading, remembered he was surrounded by morons, and banged his hand on the table to gain everyone's attention.

Once everyone was staring at him, Sweden raised up a card that read: What're you reading, South Korea?

This caused all heads to swivel to the miracle that was South Korea not bouncing off the walls, not saying things were invented in his house, and not molesting people. South Korea for his part just smiled and held up his book.

On the cover was a provocative picture of China and South Korea wrapped in an erotic embrace wearing what looked like golf clothes. The title was Passions Foreplay on the Fairway.

Proudly he explained, "There's this really great couple of writers in America that will write out a big romance novel involving you and your dearest in any situation! You just go online to their website, and you can purchase a book to be made. They ask you all kinds of questions about what you both look like, what things you're into, and what your friends' names are; whether you want it to be "mild" or "wild;" and then you get to choose from different categories to get the perfect backdrop of your romance! South Korea puffed out his chest and said gleefully, "I chose their golf section. Oh yeah~ cause I'm a smooth player like that."

Poland raised his hand, "Like, when you say, romance, don't you mean like sex books?"

Belarus mildly interjected, "Poland I believe the term put forth by publishing companies is 'erotica.' Not sex books."

Poland waved a dismissive hand, "Like, whatever. Okay, like what she called them then."

South Korea nodded. "Yep, and, just FYI, I went with 'wild' for my book."

England groaned as his head tiredly smacked the table. Weakly he said, "None… absolutely none of us wanted to ever know that."

Sweden patted England on the back, glad that he finally had someone else in the room that understood the stupidity. It was getting lonely for him.

Mexico ignored the not cool, "normal" Nations and asked, "So it's an erotic novel specially ordered to star you and China, right?"

South Korea nodded.

Mexico continued, "And they had a bunch of different backdrops to choose from?"

South Korea nodded.

Mexico finished his line of questioning with a perplexed, "Then why the hell did you pick golf?"

"Ah," South Korea seemed very confused, "I'm afraid I don't understand the question."

Denmark clarified in a voice that was five times louder than it needed to be, "Golf is boring and stupid and is used to place people into comas… why would use such a boring backdrop thing for your love novel?"

Mexico gifted Denmark with a pleased look, "Thank you Denmark!"

Denmark puffed his chest out and bellowed, "No need to worry. And by the way, I am only to be called by my formal title of The Great Denmark of—"

Belarus shut that stupidity down immediately with a sharp, "Shut the fuck up Denmark, no one cares."

Denmark, deeply wounded, went into his little emo corner to cry about the mean lady.

South Korea angrily defended his choice, "Golf was an awesome choice for me! One, golf has become a really popular sport in both China and me recently so we've been kind of bonding over that." South Korea blushed a little as he thought of some of the happier moments peacefully playing golf with his darling China before continuing, "And two, golf is ripe with sexual innuendo! Here, I'll read a section to you…"

He cleared his throat, flipped a few pages, and began to read.

"Yao's long, sweet-smelling hair brushed against Yong Soo's face, as he stepped up behind the Chinese beauty. 'Here,' he whispered into a trembling Yao's ear, 'you need to hold your wood like this, gently, but with intent. Don't be afraid of it, be its master instead.' Yao shuddered, as Yong Soo placed his hands on top of Yao's to guide his delicate, slender fingers into proper grip and placement on the long shaft of his 3-wood.

Yong Soo's body was so close, Yao could feel the heat from the Korean's chest on his back. Yao turned his head to the right, nose brushing Yong Soo's cheek, and gasped at the sensation. Nervous of the tension and heat filling his body, Yao whimpered, 'The wood… it's so big, I don't know if I can control it.' Realizing what he had just said caused Yao to blush and feel faint when Yong Soo chuckled. Giving the sensitive Chinese man a heated look, the Korean cooed, 'Ah, but my dear, the bigger the wood, the longer the ball will fly.' Yao could only give a soft moan as Yong Soo began to close that last small distance—"

"Enough!"

South Korea was brought out of his reading by the loud shout. The members of MAC looked in confusion at the panting Englishman. He shook his head and said, "Enough. One of the last few things I can enjoy with my brothers is golf. They're bastards in every other regard, but we all manage to get along while playing golf. I will NOT let you spoil that by forcing me to think of sexual innuendo, or you screwing China on a golf course! I won't damn it, I just won't!"

A slightly uncomfortable silence descended on the group until finally Spain decided to speak, "So… that was really good. What are some of the other situations you can get?"

South Korea pulled out his laptop and brought up the website. Using his mad tech skills he quickly set up a projector and had the website projected onto the white walls of the room. He began to point out the different features, "So down here you can see all the different categories you can choose from and in each category there are like ten or twenty different story plots to chose from… I chose one of their golf storylines, but you can choose from beach and cruise vacations to historical fiction to sci-fi to safaris."

England snorted in snobbish derision, "I can't believe you're wasting our time like this, South Korea."

South Korea gave a sly glance towards the Englishman and said, "A few of the situations involve pirates, and I know that one of those pirate stories is set in the correct historical time. And another book has fairies and wizards and stuff in it."

All the sudden, the idea seemed more appealing to England. What strange and completely random happenstance!

Continuing on, South Korea pointed out another winning feature, "Also, if you go down here, you can find a spot that will show you how to send pictures of you and your lover to be used on the cover of the book. That's how I got my picture with Yao on my cover."

This got quite a few Nations excited, but none so much as Spain who nearly jumped up out of his chair. He had a wonderful painting (hidden very carefully away so no Italian could find it) of him and his little Romano. Romano was dressed in a lovely dress that was in a state of strategic disarray to show off quite a bite of his neck and shoulders; a basket full of tomatoes in one hand while his other hand griped tightly onto Spain. Spain was dressed in a white shirt that was unlaced in the front to show off his pectoral and abdominal muscles and dark, very tight pants. Both were locked forever in a pose of intimate, compromising passion. Spain, holding Romano tightly in his arms, and Romano, dipped backwards to such a degree that he would fall if not held aloft in his beloved Spaniard's arms and a maidenly blush dotting his face, stared deeply into each other's eyes in this wonderful portrait. A work of art that Spain would fight very hard to NOT let Romano see until the time was right.

And what could be a better time than plastered as the cover of an erotic novel anybody could read written by complete strangers from a different country? Spain was so sweeping Romano off his feet.

Realizing that he just needed to add his finishing touch, South Korea pointed out his last selling point, "And at this reasonable price right here… we can get TWO books. One for us to read and one to send to our sweetly shy sweetheart! Think about it, they find this book and read it… easily imagining what it would be like to have such tender passions heaped upon them in real life. And after reading it, their mind is obsessed with knowing if life would imitate fiction, and comes jumping into our arms!" South Korea pumped his fist into the air during this last bit to punctuate what would be MAC's greatest triumph.

Excited whisperings broke out as each Nation began to fantasize the happy future.

Belarus stood up and slammed her gavel down onto the table. "I think we can all agree that this proposal is something to vote on. Even if this plan doesn't work, and it IS South Korea so yeah, but even if it doesn't work, at least we'll have a written erotic novel starring us and our beloved. I call now for a vote! All in favor?!"

The shouts were loud and happy.

"All opposed?"

Silence.

Belarus smiled, "It has been decided. All right, we shall adjourn the meeting of MAC for two weeks in order to get our books created and sent to us. And yes, this does include you too England. I saw you drooling over there about your pirate fantasy. Denial doesn't help anyone, so be here or I'll have to hunt your pathetic pig-flesh down. And you don't want me to do that. During our next meeting… which is two weeks from today I'd like to remind the idiots here, we'll go around and share our different books and then send them off to hopefully woo our slightly unenthusiastic soul mates." She struck the gavel.

"The MAC meeting is closed for now."

End… or is it?

Oh my, I had a lot of fun writing this little one-shot. I may write more about the adventures of MAC including things like: (1) how to properly hide when stalking, (2) awkward, romantic letter writings, (3) what their beloveds are doing in their club "The Society of Leave Me the Fuck Alone (SLMFA)" etc.

P.S. The website and service is real. The golf romance situation is real. Getting your cover personalized with you and your special someone is real. I did not make any of that up. Think about that, my dear readers. Think about it…

Thank you to my dear friend, Urchin for inspiring me to write this. I hoped she enjoyed it.

Much Love,

91REDROSES