Warning: Contains Hetalia and everything that comes with it.

The Daily Life of Miss Germany

    Astrid “Germany” Beilschmidt shuffled the papers in front of her as the World Meeting began. America of course, starting off. “Dude, I think the World Conference can convene- BLAH! BLAH! BLAH! BLAH! BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!”

     Five…

     Four…

     Three…

     Two…

     One…

     He finished.

     “I agree with America.” Japan spoke in a deadpan tone.

     And the room erupted into chaos.

     As usual.

     She sighed, continuing to organize her papers, doing her best to drown out the noise until she was ready to yell at them.

     Ah, everything seemed to be in order, everyone was arguing, it was the loudest it could possibly get, and Germany’s patience snapped.

     She stood up slamming her hands down on the oval-shaped table and shouted above all the chaos. “EVERYVONE SHUT UP!!!!!”

     “GERMANY?!” they all shouted in alarm.

     “Ve’ve called zhis conference to solve zhe vorld’s problems! Not to fight about zhe problems of our past! Und since I’m zhe only country who know how to run a meeting ve’ll follow my rules from here on out!” she boomed, “Eight minutes each for speeches! Not chit-chat about side-deals und ABSOLUTELY NO going over zhe time limit!” she calmed, patting her pile of paperwork. “Now, if you vant to go, be prepared und raise your hand. Und do NOT do so in a manner zhat mocks any salute of my country’s past.” and she added with a growl, “It is not funny.” glaring at them all.

     America held in a snicker.

     She saw a hand raise to her left. “Ja Italy?!” she unintentionally shouted, pointing at him.

     “PASTA~!” the ditsy brunette shouted.

     She sighed, looking at her watch. “Ja, ja… it is lunch time anyvay…”

     Yeah… this was how it always went…

     Always…

 ~*~ Hetalia! ~*~

“Zhe time vas Vorld Var 1.”

         ‘I’m supposed to be fighting a decedent of Rome.’ Astrid glanced around the thickly wooded area, big, ice-blue eyes calculating the scenery. ‘So vhere is he?’ she clutched the stick in her hands tighter. She had picked it up a while ago and in a moment of good spirits, had dubbed it Herrschtick. It had looked like it would make a good weapon at the time. She glanced behind her, ‘No sign of anyvone…’

    “How veird…” she muttered. She had crossed the border with no problem and the invasion had gone well. Not even a hitch…

     Cautiously she began her trek down the path in front of her, her tall, muscled, 5’11 figure poised for confrontation. It wouldn’t do any good to let her guard down. She walked down the road, short, platinum blond hair bobbing with each step and military uniform rustling as she ducked under branches and jumped over roots.

     And suddenly…

     There was a box in front of her.

     A box labeled tomatoes…

     Hmm… I wonder how this will turn out for Miss Germany?

 To be continued…

…Maybe…